Journey Of Legends
by Cheddar the Cheese
Summary: Harry Potter was a Legend and Legends have a way of echoing down through the years. People love and admire their legends. But what happens when that admiration is coupled with desperation and a need so great it can tear a whole socity apart? Chapter 6 up
1. The Plan

Journey of Legends By: Cheddar Chapter One: The Plan  
  
A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend: I don't own any of it except the plot and the characters who you all don't know from cannon. Don't sue me, I'm a very poor student with nothing but pocket lint to offer you. Although, if you want that then you can have it.  
  
  
  
Chapter One: The Plan  
  
***  
  
Death has a way of catching up to you when you least expect it, or maybe we do. Expect it I mean. Harry had. He'd been expecting to die since he was eleven years old. Maybe it had been sooner. And at the time of the beginning of his death fixation, the world would have thought it so sad to have some one that young thinking about death so often but after numerous near-death incidents, people got used to the idea. He was no normal child; it is only natural he does not worry about what would be considered normal for an adolescent.  
  
We as a society would have pitied Mr. Harry Potter as he spent years haunted by death for five years before succumbing to it. But he finally had. It was warm where he was but now he was surrounded by an all-consuming oddity; it looked almost exactly like where he had come from but the feel of it, it was so different. More peaceful, less hectic, this was closer after all. It was nothing like he had ever imagined it should be. Which was so very sad in a sense. He had spent the past seventeen years thinking about dying, even dreaming about it and now he was finally here. Dead.  
  
Harry began to wonder when it was that he first began to envisage the hereafter. Had it been after he had first met Voldemort when he was in his first year? Or did it go back to before that? Had there been some part on his sub-consciousness as a child that always thought about it? He knew that it wasn't until he grew older that his fixation with death became an obsession. It had been after Cedric's death. Or maybe it was after the events of his sixth year. Nobody really knows, not even Harry himself.  
  
What ever it had truly been, Ron and Hermione hadn't noticed anything strange about him then. Sure he was a little depressed but who wouldn't be? He had witnessed death of a friend before his eyes. Nobody minded his behavior, they all said it was to be expected it wasn't until they were in their seventh year that they even perceived that something was amiss.  
  
Hermione had first asked him about it. She was concerned that he had begun to listen when the Divination professor predicted his death every week. He had begun to let his studies slip and only really paid attention in class when they were learning about the different killers in potions. It was quite alarming to her, was he going to poison himself? But Harry had shrugged off her inquires. He hadn't even realized what he was doing. How far he had fallen.  
  
Ron was next to say something. "What were you dreaming about last night? Sounded like you were laughing at something"  
  
"Oh," Harry had answered with a wave of his hand. "It was nothing. I was at this funeral, but it was fun." Harry had continued down the hall but Ron stopped.  
  
Next it was the two of them together who finally convinced him that it wasn't normal. Teenagers shouldn't be inviting death. But he excused it. "I always knew I was going to die. Ever since I first learned what happened to my Mum and Dad. I just knew way deep down that it would happen." And he was right, not that Ron or Hermione would admit it to him.  
  
Now he was dead but this nothing like the golden city he'd pictured. He was alone but it felt like there were others just out of his reach. He wondered if his parents were here. Who would he know? Who would he meet? This new heaven he found himself in held promises of a long and hope filled future, but of course eternity was long. As he sat there wrapped in the warmth of nothingness figures and shapes began to emerge as if from a very dense fog. He smiled to himself, he knew whom the wanted it to be and sometimes when you want something so bad you know that it is what will happen.  
  
And the longer he sat there, the clearer the images became. A man with Harry's unruly black hair and sparkling emerald eyes leaned over so he was looking the dead teen straight in the eye. Harry knew that face. He knew every line and every smile; it's one of those things you never forget even if you were exposed to it for only a little while. It was his father. Suddenly arms surrounded him from everywhere engulfing him in love. His mother sat beside him, as did his grandparents, whom he'd never met before. From almost every angel he was showered in hugs and kisses, affection that he had never knew before. It was every dream come true for Harry, he was loved, he was with his parents, and he was happy. The world seemed so simple, so perfect. But not everyone was as content with Harry's death as he himself was.  
  
Back in wizarding world headlines screamed of the rising of the dark lord and all the chaos that would come of it. "The Boy Who Lived, Dies!" "Muggles Find Wizard World: The Cat's Out Of The Cauldron" "Dark Wizards Raising, the End is in Sight!" "Unstoppable Wizards Force Muggle-Borns Into Labor Camps" "War is Declared on Dark Arts" "Faith Vanishing Fast for Light Wizards" "Hogwarts Declared Only Neutral Ground In War" "Future uncertain as more Dark Wizards take over White House" "Meeting To Be Held To Solve War Problems Today"  
  
And the world began it's slow decent into hell.  
  
***  
  
Divin Japelle was the quiet and unassuming man who sat in the corner. He was in his 40s but looked at least a decade older. His face was filled with the scars of his hard life, wrinkles and dull eyes. Even when he smiled, which was quite rarely, his smile looked tired. But with experience comes knowledge and he did know things that the others in the room did not, simply because they had fought all their battles from behind the lines. But Divin had been there on the front of the battle for the past twenty years. He had spent six of those years in a prisoner of war camp before he escaped back into the torment of the army. It was a miracle in the eyes of the world that he was still alive, but to the tall man it was a curse. He was the closest thing the world had to a hero right now. And yet he was the one sitting alone in the corner of the crowded room, silent without anyone to tell about all his struggles.  
  
People avoided looking in his cold black eyes instead focusing just above them on his short black hair if they spoke to him and the wall behind him if they weren't. They admired him beyond anything but they feared him, years of war had made him cold and callous, the smallest mistake could set him off. How could any one have survived the things he had? How had he not gone utterly and completely mad? They watched him with pity and fear they didn't even know a human was capable of; but none of it meant anything to him.  
  
The room, in whose corner he sat, was large and filled with seats facing the center of the room, where a raised platform stood. Divin watched as the muggles in their modern suits of lose pants and long shirts took up their seats on one side of the room while the wizards in their robes sat on the other. It had been centuries since the muggle world had believed and coexisted willingly with the wizard but now there were still the old prejudices, which will never go away. Japelle knew that not even cooperation between the two groups could last long. As soon as one had lost its usefulness the other would drop it like a hot stone. But until then they were forced to work together to try and make something of the living hell they had been thrust into.  
  
A man climbed up onto platform and was trying to get everyone's attention with a few gentle taps on the microphone. Slowly the room had settled some and the loud voices had dimmed to just a few mutterings and whispers he began his speech.  
  
"Good afternoon. Many of you know me but for those that don't, my name is Beneyt Pullium. I am headmaster of Hogwarts School. I have asked you all here..." He trailed off as if he couldn't remember quite what he had wanted to say. He seemed flustered. Divin pegged him right off as the kind of headmaster who sat at his desk writing up detentions but never taking an active part in the lives of his students. It would have bothered Divin if his children had lived long enough to go there but that was the past which he spent as little time dwelling on as he could.  
  
Beneyt had resumed speaking though his voice was shaky and unsure. "We all know that in the past few years an alarming number of dark wizards have risen to power. Just this month four of them took the remains of the United States White House, which has been used as a hospital for the past sixty years. It was one of our last safe places left. It was our last hospital. With it gone, we no longer have any place to house the sick, injured, and dying. We cannot fight this war on the broken backs of tired civilians."  
  
We need the hospitals. We cannot win this war this way. We need to heal our armies. We cannot train enough medi-wizards fast enough. Every time a year of students graduates they are killed far faster than when a new group is prepared. We cannot stand for this. We need your help to rebuild our hospitals!" A murmur ran through the assembled guests as his request for money sank in. People were excited. After so many of years fighting a losing battle they finally had a plan. For the first time in almost two years there was the slightest glimmer of hope. Divin had lost all respect for the man; he was leading these people on. Raising their hopes but what if they needed more than just hospitals? What if what they needed was already gone?  
  
"What we need, sir," Divin let his voice drawl along the last word making sure the entire room understood just how he felt. "Is not hospitals or money. Don't delude yourselves. While these things are great and all that, there is only so much we can do. The people are weary. We've been fighting this war since the day we were born if not longer. This war is being fought on the broken backs of civilians because there is no one else. What we need are warriors. Fighters. People who knows how to fight, ones that know how the mind of the enemy works, ones that aren't afraid to die. You're not going to find that here. Every soul on the battlefields is too far gone to be what we need." The room was still and silent as every one twisted around to stare at him.  
  
The man at the front of the room had become flustered again. "Mr. Japelle. If you are suggesting what I think you are suggesting-" But Divin cut him off.  
  
"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm simply stating the facts. No one alive today has what it takes to win this war." The atmosphere of the room soon plummeted to a deeply depressing mood.  
  
Mr. Pullium looked down at his notes. A woman on the muggle side stood on shaky legs. "Sir?" Her voice spoke volumes about her fear. "Sir? If I may? Is... is there a way... Mr. Japelle said that no one alive could do this... but what about dead?" Divin raised his eyebrows. What was this woman saying? "Don't mistake my words here. What I'm trying to say is... is there any way to bring back the dead. We could look into it. We've all heard stories about the great heroes of the past. Is there any way we could bring them here?" Every one was staring at her now. Most looked as if the woman had bright pink hair instead of brown. But Divin understood it. Strange as it was, it made perfect sense.  
  
As a child he could remember his grandmother Japelle retelling the legends of Jean-Paul and the vampires and Xira who used to be a dark wizard but turned back to their side and was killed for it. He remembered every detail about Harry Potter who defeated one of the greatest dark wizards when he was only a year old and of Amide White who saved Hogwarts from becoming a school for the dark arts; all of these and more. Surely they could help them. Surely these great legends would give them just the edge they needed to win. Surely...  
  
Beneyt was yelling for order. Every one had broken out into excited whispers of the great legends. Names flew around the room like wildfire. Xira, Harry, Max, Marcus, Alexa, Eliot, Monica. Each of which inspiring a new name to the surface of the mind. "If I could have your attention, Please!" ,Beneyt screamed in exasperation. Divin had not thought the older man capable of such volume.  
  
The room was instantly silent. Divin and the woman both sat as Beneyt began again, "There are rumors of such a spell. But no one knows if it would work or even how to do it. If it were, that we are able to proffer such a spell, whom would we bring back? And how would we do it without the dark wizards finding out? Surely their sensors would pick up on such a high concentration of magic. I beg you all to think this through before you peruse this train of thought."  
  
An old wizened wizard stood up with the assistance of a cane. "If we can not win this on our own then we cannot expect others to win it for us. They are the lucky ones. They're dead. Let them stay that way. We have no right to force them to live in this hell again. They were warriors in their own times but times change. We cannot expect them to be as good or better in a new time. I know I for one will be glad when I die. If you go through with this don't expect any help from me!" The crowd murmured it's conflicting emotions about this brass statement.  
  
The brunet woman from before, stood up. She seemed to have gained confidence and Divin noticed that while outwardly she appeared as calm as could be, her eyes were filled with fear. She had not conquered her fears but simply hidden it. "If we don't try then what are our other options? I don't hear you coming up with a new ground breaking plan to end this." The old man snorted but the lady had her fear in check now and turned to Pullium. "If the council agrees I'll back it with whatever I can supply; even if it means re-training the wizards. You have my vote, Mr. Pullium." The crowd was in uproar. Divin sat back and watched the chaos she had created with a simple statement. The lady had brought the council into it. She was serious; more so than Beneyt had been about his plea for money.  
  
A man stood and declared with a loud firm voice, "If Helena's in, I'm in too!"  
  
"And I" said another man. So far the wizards weren't giving in.  
  
"I'll bite." A young witch said. "Who would we bring back?" But no one had an answer for her. Who would they bring back? How many could they bring back?  
  
"Would we bring back any non-wizards?" Asked a young muggle man from across the room.  
  
"Why would we bring back muggles?" An old witch exclaimed. She sat back down muttering about how useless muggles were.  
  
"None worth bringing back lived in a time where wizardry is common knowledge. They would be as quickly killed off by the dark wizards as a untrained wizard or witch." Said a man in the front. Divin couldn't tell weather he was muggle or wizard but he knew he was a wise man.  
  
"Wouldn't we alienate any one by bringing them back from the dead?" Divin asked. But no one heard him. They were to busy carrying on with their own conversations about the rise of the light side again.  
  
"We first need to ask the Council. We can't do any big spells without their approval." A nervous looking boy said from somewhere near Divin but just out of his line of sight. Divin had had enough.  
  
"If we went to the council for every little spell we cast we'd never get anything done. But that is the smallest of our problems. Miss Helena made a very good point. It's not the best plan ever formulated but it's all we've got. I'll back it if we leave the council out of it. They'll want to control everything but this isn't their war. Half of them are spies for this or that dark wizard! Hell, the only place we can be sure there aren't any spies is in the bathroom and that's not even a certainty. My point is that if we do this we do it just us. No council. No one else."  
  
A great cheer went up from the assembled. They began to stand and stomp their feet. And through it all Beneyt gave him a glare that shot daggers into the soul. But Divin didn't have to worry about that. He had no soul. Not any more.  
  
***  
  
Adela Hudson sat in the empty Hogwarts library with books spread out in front of  
  
her. She appeared to be talking to herself. "I swear that if she really thought anyone would  
  
do it she'd assign the whole book for homework. Bloody hell! Where the hell was the part  
  
about the dragons?" She leafed through the book so fast a page ripped causing the young  
  
Gryffindor to swear under her breath.  
  
Another youth chose that moment to enter the library. Sean Milo grinned at the  
  
sight of the tall black girl bent intently over her book. She glared at him as he walked in  
  
but that expression was soon overwhelmed by a mischievous look "Sean! Just the guy I  
  
wanted to see!"  
  
The Gryffindor looked at her nervously. "I don't like that look. That's the look that says the best witch in the school wants help from little old me," Sean replied with a grimace.  
  
Adela just laughed good naturally at her friend. "Sorry. You know I hate history of Magic. All we do is study old wars. Why can't we study this one? The most modern thing we've ever studied in that class was the muggles finding out about us in 2405. That was like 1316 years ago! Shouldn't we be learning about our own wars?"  
  
Sean looked at her. "How can we understand what is happening now if we don't  
  
know how they fixed similar problems in the past?"  
  
"Hey look, we all know you're the best student Professor Binns has ever had and probably the best with history any ones ever met, but don't start getting all philosophical on us, Sean!"  
  
The boy laughed. "You know, I think I'm starting to understand what my brother sees in you." It was a well-known fact at the school that Adela and Sean's brother Richard were going out.  
  
Adela blushed at his comment and hit her friend playfully on the arm. "Shut up," she giggled.  
  
"Hey, I'm not trying to move in my little brother's girlfriend but, ah, if he ever... well, you know where I'll be."  
  
Her laughter had stopped. "And where would that be?"  
  
He gave her a sly lazy smile. I'm an enigma. I'll be... around." And she watched him walk out of the room with a sly smile on his face. She watched the door a little, without a clue what she was looking for. With a shake of her head though, she went back to work.  
  
"What am I thinking?" she asked herself. "I'm going out with his brother! I can't be thinking about Sean like that!" She blushed at her thoughts. "But he does have a nice smile..."  
  
From behind a bookcase Milana Knight watched the exchange with interest. The boy left the room with a glide in his step that made him appear to float. Milana waited until he had vanished into the hallway before turning the corner and began to look at the books on the shelf looking for the one she needed. A cold voice came from behind her.  
  
"Last I heard, Slytherins didn't come to the library. They didn't do school work."  
  
Milana ignored the other girl and fought the urge to turn and scream at her. "Last I heard you didn't care about school and the only reason they haven't kicked you out is because you have nowhere else to go. Of course, I could have heard wrong." Milana turned to see Adela sneering at her from the table.  
  
"Oh? Is that it this time, Hudson? No more 'what ever did happen to dear old mom and dad?' huh? No more taunts and jeers about me not having the perfect family? Come on, we both know I'm not as perfect as you so just say it! But it's just too bad. I think you're losing your goody-two-shoes touch, Gryffindor." She sneered, "Last I heard you were going steady with Richard Milo and now I find you flirting with his older brother alone in the library? So very interesting. Tsk Tsk Tsk. Some one may find out." She sent Adela a smirk.  
  
Neither of them said a word. They simply glared at each other. Milana turned back to the bookcase at the same time Adela went back to her homework. The large room was filled with an uncomfortable silence that was thick enough to shake your very soul. Milana found the ancient book on a shelf. Why it wasn't in the restricted section was beyond her, but she did not question her luck. With a secret smile she headed to the front of the library where the Liberian sat reading a new book to approve it for the children.  
  
The Liberian looked at the book Milana handed her for a moment before she looked up at the girl inquisitively. "New hobby?"  
  
"No." She didn't elaborate. Professor Dixon watched her with knowing eyes as she marked in her book what Milana was checking out. When she was finished, the pale Slytherin grabbed the book and ran back to her dorm without looking back. She paused in front the portrait of a tall man with oily hair and black robes only long enough to give him the password. She ignored his remark that "Some things never change" and ran up to her room to spend her precious little time alone before her roommates came back from watching the boys practice broom ball.  
  
Broomball had replaced Quidditch in the past few centuries and no one even remembered how to play Quidditch any more but like the old professor's painting had said, some things never change. Thank what ever controlled the universe for that.  
  
Back in the Library, Adela had gathered up her books having finished her homework and picked out two she wanted to read later. As she approached Professor Dixon she had a sudden burst of inspiration. "So, what was Milana checking out?" she asked in what she called a nonchalant manner. The woman looked at her over the tops of her glasses as if she wanted to know what the girl was planning on doing with the information. "I mean, I think that it was one I read and I just loved it so I was going to ask her what she thought of it but only if it's the right book," she lied while praying it wasn't a schoolbook.  
  
Professor Dixon handed her the two books and set her glasses down on the desk with a sigh. "She was checking a book about art history in the muggle world. Is that the one you read?"  
  
To say that Adela was shocked as akin to saying she was tall. Everybody knew it, but she quickly covered it up. "Umm no. It must just have a similar cover. Thank you." And she picked up her books and left as fast as she could without running.  
  
When she got outside the library she burst out laughing causing several passing third years to look at her questioningly. A boy stood against the wall on the other side of the hall looked at her as if she were crazy and then frowned. "What did you do?"  
  
Adela looked up and began to giggle again. "Me? Nothing."  
  
"Then what's so funny?" Richard looked just like his brother, just a little younger.  
  
"Nothing. I'll tell you later. Let me go drop these books off and then we can hang out." He nodded.  
  
"I'll be right here." And she ran off. She spent no time at all putting her things away and she rushed out to meet her boyfriend. All thoughts of his brother pushed from her mind.  
  
They wandered hand-in-hand down the hallway towards their special place. It was a secluded tower that hardly anyone ever used any more. The rumor was that it used to be the divination tower, but that when one of the teachers had died up there. People stopped going and soon rumors that it was cursed soon sprouted. Along with the tower. they could no longer hold a teacher in the defense against the dark arts job because a DADA teacher killed a teacher up there. So they moved the class to it's current location and had never been able to hold a teacher for DADA for more than a year. It then became Adela and Richard's spot. They had redone a few things. Gotten rid of the dust and grim of centuries and added a few chairs and an old couch. It was perfect. Old painting snoozed in their frames looking down on them.  
  
Adela's favorite was a painting done in the muggle style and she had reason to believe that one of the boys in it was the famous Harry Potter. He was a normal enough looking boy with black hair and glasses. He smiled like any seventeen-year-old boy but something seemed to be off. The artist had captured so well how the black haired boy seemed to be thinking of other things as he watched his three friends as if it were the last time he would ever see them. The red headed boy sat holding hands with a girl with curly brown hair and another girl who looked like the red head's sister smiled at them as if to say 'It's about time.' But the black haired boy haunted her dreams. Was this the Harry Potter that had died right out on the lawn? And who were his friends?  
  
If the picture affected Richard the same way it did her, but he never said anything. That afternoon as they sat on the couch Adela decided to ask him, she'd always wondered what he thought of it. "Richard?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Why do you think that one picture doesn't move?"  
  
He smiled a lazy Milo smile at her. "Because it's muggle."  
  
She groaned. "But why?"  
  
"Are you always this curious or is this new?" She didn't reply so he continued. "I don't know. Harry Potter. Didn't he grow up with muggles?"  
  
Adela snuggled closer to him. "I don't remember. We should ask your brother. He's the history person."  
  
Later," Richard responded. "Right now I'm enjoying it being just us." Adela smiled as his arm snaked around her waist.  
  
"Yes. Later..."  
  
***  
  
Helena Jon sat in her chair with her knees shaking. People around her were shouting and clapping her on the back. But she sat there in a very controlled state of shock She had started something that day, but she didn't know what. She had spent her entire life being afraid of the magical people but now she sat among them and was helping them.  
  
Why?  
  
She raised her head and her eyes locked with another set of eyes. His were dark. Stormy almost. He was one of them! Helena stared at his eyes. She'd heard about him. Every one had. Whether they were muggle or magic. Every one knew about Divin Japelle. He was the one who had spent so much time in a death camp before he escaped last year. Why was he here? Last any one had heard he had gone insane and was living as a hermit in the forests around that British wizarding school, Hogwarts.  
  
The man rose slowly to his feet and began to walk towards her. Helena cast her eyes down. Don't make eye contact... don't make eye contact. The crowd flowed around him like water and he slid gracefully into the vacated seat next to her.  
  
"Hello." His voice was softer than it had been when he was talking to the crowd.  
  
"H-Hi," Helena stammered.  
  
The man smiled. "I must say, I admire your courage. I've seen you at a lot of these meetings and you never say anything. Why the change now?"  
  
So he'd noticed her? Helena felt her heart jump just a little and blushed. "Oh. Well, I.I always feel, you know, like they'll laugh at me. And I mean it's because you are all so.so..." She had no idea where she was going with this train of thought but she rode it anyway. "I-I." The wizard looked slightly amused by her stammering.  
  
"You know, you're a much better speaker when you're talking to a lot of people." She blushed at the almost insult.  
  
"What I'm trying to say is as scared as I was, I had an idea that I wanted to see if some one who... knew more about... that could help fill in the gaps."  
  
His laughter drowned out the crowd. "I see," he said with a smile. They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a moment. "I think they're starting to calm down," he said of the crowd. And so they had. People had begun to calm down and were sitting. But the former segregation of the room has dissolved.  
  
Beneyt was speaking again. "I beg you all, if we go through with this, not a word to any one until it is time to reveal our warriors. We cannot risk them being found out. They will be confused and vulnerable. There is indeed a spell that can bring people back but we can only bring back so. I don't know how many." He looked like it hurt to say these words. The old man who had earlier disapproved of the plan sat in his chair and glared. Divin and Helena waited while the Hogwarts headmaster collected his thoughts. "We'll need... umm... unicorn's blood, the wands of the warriors and some other personal effect... Like clothing. I have this stuff for some people up at the castle but we'll need it for any others we plan to bring back. We'll meet back here in one week to determine who we can bring here." He looked as if he should say more, and the audience waited for him to continue, or at least say thank you, but he walked off. Divin turned to the woman next to him.  
  
"Will you be here next time?" he asked.  
  
"I'll be here and backing this plan until the day I die." Her voice was confidant this time.  
  
***  
  
Beneyt Pullium sat at his desk at Hogwarts School of Magic. The school had been renamed in the early 2090s because it was thought to be more politically correct. As he sat there with every pervious headmaster snoozing in their frames, he stared at the two large  
  
trunks on the floor. He knew they contained things that would make any sane muggle shiver and any halfway competent wizard quiver with excitement. It held the personal belongings of some of history's greatest wizards.  
  
Xira Newt's wand and hat sat in that one along with her robes she wore the day she was killed. Marcus Cabot's wand was in that other trunk along with his journals, which detailed how his family had died. Professor Pullium had never read it nor had he really seen these things but they lay in the trunks just waiting for him. Harry Potter's wand and his parents' wedding rings lay wrapped in Elyzabel Petty's scarf and her wand lay beside that. But Beneyt didn't know where these things lay only that they were real. He'd heard tales about them. He wondered if Alexa McRyan's dress would fall apart or if Max Harrison's wand would disintegrate if he touched them. There was only one way to know.  
  
Slowly he stood and walked over to the two seemingly harmless trunks. The larger one looked older and more fragile. Most of the contents of both boxes were ancient by now. He did not know how long a photograph would last. Was the trunk airtight or did they have some kind of preservation spell on them to keep the items contained within safe? He wouldn't know unless he opened one. His hands shook as he reached for the clasp of the smaller trunk.  
  
Behind him he heard some one snort awake in their frame, but he had swallowed his fear and the lid sprang back revealing a neat mess of robes wands and pictures. The pictures still waved and smiled at him and the robes still seemed new if not a little dusty. He sighed with relief. This harebrained plan might just have the feet it needed to stand on in these boxes.  
  
He reached in and with drew a long wand that looked like redwood from a bundle. He could smell the sweet sent of the well-worn wood as if it had been cut yesterday; nothing smelled like fresh cut wood. It lay nestled on a long dark green velvet robe and was tied with a thick satin ribbon. A necklace was tied to the ribbon as well. The pendant of the necklace was a small emerald set in gold. The small parchment tag attached to the string that held it all together declared it the former property of Monica Kindell. The years of her life were printed in green ink below her name. 2379-2406. She had been killed in those first horrible years after the muggles found out when wizards were skinned alive and parts of them were sold or worse. She was only twenty-seven.  
  
Beneyt's hands shook as he held the beautiful gold chain in his hand. He remembered the story of this one. She had been one of the best public speakers ever born. When muggles found out she went to the nation's council to plead their case. She won over more people than anyone else before and anyone probably could now. She was one of the most intelligent people of her time with the strength to stand tall in the face of discrimination and hate. Every year when the students wrote about what historical figure they'd most like to meet, Monica Kindell was second in the number of essays only to infamous Harry Potter.  
  
The next bundle he pulled out was labeled to be Amide Langa's: 1221-1238. She had been 17. The girl's wand was pine and it lay wrapped in her wedding dress that she never got a chance to wear. Her wedding ring fell out of a pocket and into his hand and seemed to burn reminding him how young she had been when she died. Seventeen. She was a ghost hunter. That meant she could see ghosts no one else could. She had the rare ability to be able to send a ghost on to whatever came next. She had been engaged to a young man and they were planning the wedding for the week after their graduation but the plans were shattered on the rocks when she was killed by a dragon a month before the end of term. Beneyt sat the bundle of dress, ring, and wand down next to Monica's belongings and reached in for the next bundle.  
  
After sifting through the rest of the box of belongings he closed the lid. A small plume rose into the air but after it settled nothing in the room stirred. He sat there silently, his heart heavy. His mind filled with pity for the brave witches and wizards, all of which dying at such a young age.  
  
He heard a soft knock on the wooden door. "Come in," he called.  
  
The door swung open and Sean Milo came in. He almost jumped into the chair and quickly blurted out, "Is it true? A little owl told me we're bringing some people back from the dead. Is it true?"  
  
Beneyt stared at the seventh year. The young Gryffindor would be graduating that year and the boy knew everything you could want to about history. If he didn't get drafted for the war, Pullium was going to ask him to replace the ever ancient and dull professor Binns. What should he tell the boy? Should he let him in on it? The teenager sat waiting patiently as if he had all the time in the world.  
  
Beneyt sighed. "Yes. It's true. I..." He had a sudden burst of inspiration. One that might save the young academic's life if he played all the right cards. "I was just going to call you in. We need you. We need your help sorting out the fact and fiction about all of the people we plan on bringing back. For some of them it has been centuries, most of them actually, thousands of years for some. Stories get told in different ways and lines get jumbled. Do you think you could help us?"  
  
Sean sat in shock. It had just been a rumor. Something that was supposed to be a secret but how could it not be a rumor? Bringing back the dead? And to top it off, the headmaster wanted his help. Sean looked up into the hopeful eyes of the man he so admired. And they needed his help... The thought was almost beyond comprehension for the youth. Almost. "Yeah... Yeah I'll help." Beneyt smiled.  
  
  
  
***  
  
The following week was a blur for Sean. He went about his normal routine during the day; going to classes and taking tests. In the evenings he went out to watch Broomball practice while he did his homework. But at night he spent his time in a tiny room where Professor Pullium had set up tables for him to do his research on the old warriors. There were boxes upon boxes of old books and pictures. Sean loved going through the two trunks, which held their wands and most treasured possessions.  
  
And so the week past, he had learned so much in that time, that the young Gryffindor had trouble keeping the myths from the facts he was learning. But when Professor Pullium came in one night to tell him it was time to go, Sean would never feel more ready.  
  
The two of them made their way silently across the lawn towards the shadowy forest. When they had reached the edge, Professor Pullium pulled out his wand and tapped a nearby tree. He muttered something that Sean could not hear and the tree's branches pulled back to reveal a large stone room filled with seats. It was like a stadium with the seats all facing the front where down below, a raised platform held a podium. Behind the podium was a curtain made of crimson red velvet.  
  
The room was already filling with people who entered from several entrances. A few spilled out of the tree entrance behind them but most entered through a similar entrance on the other side of the room. There were both muggles and wizards and while the majority of them sat apart from the other species like there was some invisible wall that separated them, a few brave souls sat mingled in the center of the room.  
  
Sean picked out the face of Divin Japelle sitting next to a muggle woman with brown hair. The other man took no notice of anything but the woman who was talking excitedly about 'the plan'. That was one phrase that kept popping up in the conversations around him, "The Plan."  
  
Professor Pullium led him down towards the front of the room and told him to sit in a chair in the front row. Sean sat in the center of the row and sat back to watch with fascination as the room filled. People took no notice of him and the man who sat on his left didn't even see him until he'd already accidentally sat on him; but Sean didn't care. He was here and here was where they were going to make history and he would help change history. It was an overwhelming thought, but Sean thrived on it.  
  
The room began to quiet and every one sat down. People whispered their excitement and a single giggle echoed in the otherwise silent room. Beneyt stood at the podium. "Ladies and gentlemen. You have returned and therefore show your support of this plan. If I am mistaken in my assumptions please leave now." No one moved. This was a very different man from the one who had presided over last week's meeting. This man was stronger and more collected. Even Sean saw the difference in the man from his work in Hogwarts. The room was silent as they waited for him to go on.  
  
"Indeed. Now then, I have been doing my homework along with some help and have figured out the best way to go about this. We will bring back ten warriors from different times. Most of you have heard of all of them, but for those who have not I will explain a bit about why I have chosen to bring back these ten.  
  
"First. Alexa McRyan. Born in 951, she is the only one of our chosen heroes not to die a violent death. In her life she was able to talk to the reining dark lords and tricked them into signing a peace contract. At the age of 36 she died of an unknown illness in 987.  
  
"Second of our heroes. Amide Langa was a ghost hunter who died in 1238 at age 18. Since she was a ghost hunter she will be able to help us dispel Sholto who has plagued us for centuries." The room looked hopeful at the thought of ridding themselves of the evil spirit who had begun the whole mess by bringing the dark lords together and joining them as one entity.  
  
"Third. Marcus Cabot, who was a vampire hunter. He will help us slay the undead armies that attack our cities and towns.  
  
"Next is Weland Walsh who head up the anti-dark-arts campaign in the 1959s and very early '60s until his death in a muggle accident. He was one of the world's most intelligent war leaders. He will help us reorganize our armies.  
  
"In 2001, at the age of 15, Harry Potter killed a dark wizard. He had defeated the same wizard when he was one year old." At this, the crowd "ohhh"ed.  
  
"In 2010, Elyzabel Petty killed one of the world's greatest dark wizard with no magic at all. She died later that same year at the age of 19 when the slain wizard's supporters killed her and her family and friends during a party in their home.  
  
"Next we have Dane Irish who died in 2095 after a bloody battle to protect Hogwarts. He will help us keep what little land we still hold safe.  
  
"In 2307, Monica Kindell died at the age of 27 from poison in her soup. She had spent the whole of her 27 years fighting various dark lords and helping to kill two of them.  
  
"In 2908, Xira Newt died when a bomb blew up her safe house. She was a spy and the best that ever lived.  
  
"And lastly we have Max Harrison who died seven hundred years ago this year. He was a teacher who taught his students how to fight and when the ministry called up for more soldiers, the people he trained lived longer than any others in their platoons.  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen. These will be our warriors. They will be what saves us."  
  
  
  
***  
  
Sean watched in wonder as the room emptied. They had spent the past hour debating what could go wrong and how this plan could fail. But people needed it so badly that they were willing to place everything on the line to help. They had agreed to meet back here in another week's time. It was then that they would perform the necessary spells and bring the heroes back to life.  
  
For now, they exited in pairs and trios talking in excited whispers. Professor Beneyt looked so emotionally drained that Sean wondered if he would be all right. He shook his head to clear his thoughts wondering if it really worked or if it was simply one of those figures of speech that were so common.  
  
He walked on stiff legs over to his headmaster. "Professor? Are you all right?"  
  
Beneyt looked up startled at the sound of the boy's voice. "What? Oh yes. I'm fine. We should get going. We'll need to tell the school. That is where we're going to have to hide the warriors until they are ready."  
  
"Ready for what?" Sean had asked such an innocent question, but it left Beneyt thinking as the two hurried out of the room and back to the castle. What were they preparing the warriors for? Would there be a huge battle? Would any of the warriors survive that long?  
  
As the approached the looming old castle, the headmaster told Sean to go find the deputy headmaster. "Tell Professor Lasky that I need all the students in the Great Hall now."  
  
"But, sir. It's almost midnight. It can't wait until morning?"  
  
"Yes. Yes. You are a smart boy, you know that? You'll really make a good living if you live through this." And with that the older man disappeared into his room leaving a very stunned Sean out in the hall to make his lonely way back to Gryffindor tower in the dark. The next morning when every one was gathered in the Great Hall, Professor Pullium stood up and the room fell silent. Over at the Slytherin table, Milana picked at her food with little interest. Her dorm mates ignored her as always and she went on with her existence not really caring what the headmaster had to say. At the Ravenclaw table, Adela sat with her friends all giggling and wondering in loud whispers what the announcement could be. She looked over at her boyfriend at the Gryffindor table and he winked at her. She smiled and turned to see his brother sitting closer to the front of the room. Sean's eyes were glazed and tired looking but he seemed intent on whatever the headmaster had to say.  
  
"Attention... Attention... Please... please. Settle down now. As some of you may have heard from your parents with the morning post, there are rumors that say the resistance is trying to bring back a few of our legends. I would like to officially say that yes, we are. We are bringing back ten of the greatest wizards and witches who ever lived."  
  
A loud and excited murmur went up from the assembled. Professor Pullium held up his hand for silence. No one paid it any mind. He opened his mouth and a few of the teachers began to tap on their glasses with spoons and other silverware. The Hall's noise level dropped considerably. "Thank you. Now, I must ask that this information not leave this building. You do not talk about with any one outside of Hogwarts. You do not discuss it anywhere outside school grounds. When we bring them back, they will be here on school grounds. They will be staying in your dorms with you until they are ready to go before the council and then before the Dark Wizards."  
  
The Hall burst into excited questions, which the headmaster finally answered by saying, " You will learn more about this in your history of magic class today. I have spoken to Professor Binns and he will be telling you about each of the new warriors."  
  
People all turned to friends to ask, "Isn't it exciting?" and, "I wonder what they'll be like!" A few, "I wonder if any of them will be cute or handsome,'' rose from the older students while the younger one talked loudly about how "I'm related to so-and-so! Beat that!" Professor Pullium smiled warily at Sean. But Sean was too busy being a teenager with his friends asking if they knew anything like the good little actor. Yes, Beneyt thought. That boy's going get very far in life if he makes it.  
  
  
  
***  
  
Up in her dorm later on, Milana sat on her bed. The room was empty of her roommates because as was normal for this time of day, they were down watching practice. The heavy green drapes were open letting in a little light. It played across the dark surfaces and Milana watched the dust dance in the single shaft of light. Her pencil danced with them trying to capture the sight. In her mind the room was not just a room, but also a memory. Something she wanted to remember since she spent so much time alone up here.  
  
Tired of drawing dust, she closed her eyes and saw in her mind's eye a picture. It was of four teenagers. They all looked to be about fifteen or so and they all wore the standard black robes with a Gryffindor crest on them. A red haired boy sat in a chair with a girl with bushy brown hair on his lap. Another girl with long red curls looked on in a fit of giggles. Off to the side, Milana saw a boy with messy black hair. He stood apart from his friends as if afraid to get too close.  
  
It was just a flash but in that one instant, Milana set down to draw. Her hands danced across the paper and the image flowed from her hand to the plain white paper. She worked on it for three impossibly short hours until the other girls' footsteps could be heard. It was dark by now and as Milana stashed her art supplies and rushed to close the curtains, she failed to notice the red haired vampire lurking in the shadows. When she turned around to see if she had forgotten anything, Milana saw nothing for the ancient vampire had disappeared with the smallest traces of a smile on her pale face.  
  
  
  
***  
  
For a week, the red haired vampire hid in the shadows and watched as the school busily  
  
prepared it's self for the arrival of the warriors. She'd heard the names of each spoken in  
  
whispers and hushed voices. Always were they respectful now when talking about them.  
  
Like talking about the dead. But she was dead too and no one ever spoke of her like that.  
  
They did not speak of her at all.  
  
The vampire had decided to take action. She knew this plan would never work.  
  
She had to stop it. She knew that the plan was to go into effect that night and she made up her mind to stop them before they could perform the spell. But how would they react? She had no idea.  
  
The young Slytherin sat on her bed without a clue as to the dangers that lurked in the shadows. She just drew. It was a picture she knew well but she also knew that this girl had never seen the original or the subjects. Milana just drew what was in her mind as the centuries old vampire watched. She had not been this astonished in years. But there was something about this girl that really made her stop and think. She was what they were bringing these warriors back to protect, this innocent girl.  
  
The vampire had known quite a few of the warriors in their lives. Watched them as they'd gone through Hogwarts and watched as they grew into heroes from frightened first years. She alone knew the true facts from fiction. Even that one Gryffindor didn't know what she knew about the warriors. And she wanted it to stay that way.  
  
  
  
***  
  
Divin sat in silence against the far wall of the meeting room. In past weeks they had all begun to refer to it as 'The Chamber'. The curtains at the front of the room were pulled back to reveal a plain room with ten long tables scattered around. Each table was covered in a white silk cloth trimmed in silver. Small lumps lay beneath the cloths. Robes and other such personal articles lay out under there just waiting for their owners to come back.  
  
Next to him, Helena prattled on excitedly about how they were witnessing history. She was so excited and Divin couldn't help but smile at the muggle's happiness. She stirred in him the reminder of his childhood, simplistic and innocent. She stirred in him the long dormant memories of his wife and children. So young, but she knew none of this and went on with her excitement. Divin Japelle turned his attention back to the room.  
  
Every one was in their best clothes. At the front of the room, a boy with sandy blonde hair sat with his back strait and his breathing fast. He was as excited as Helena was and yet he couldn't be out of school yet. Divin saw him as he really was. Not the child who had some of the best grades at Hogwarts but as the man he would be; a man who could never survive this war without killing that boy inside.  
  
Beneyt stood off to one side. He rung his hands and kept calling out questions, asking if everything was ready. Divin just sat back to watch.  
  
But so soon it was time to begin. The supporters would sit where they always had while the people performing the spell would stand beside each of the tables waiting for the warriors to rise.  
  
Beneyt stood facing away from the audience and towards the tables. He raised his hands and mumbled words out of a book on the podium before him. His wand in his hand began to glow a bright fiery red and slowly turned to a wonderfully rich green and then a pure sapphire blue which in turned faded to a brilliant yellow. The light grew until it became a blinding white orb surrounding his hand.  
  
Beneyt let out a scream of pain but no sound came out. He threw his head back and every one sitting and watching collectively flinched as they caught a glimpse of his pale face. His breath came in hard and fast and Divin felt the power running races around the room. Even the muggles present could feel something magical. Beside him Helena had the look of a frightened but excited child who was going to her first haunted house. Divin smiled down at her.  
  
Suddenly a crash shattered the deafening silence of the room. A young woman with flaming red hair stood bathed in white light in the doorway. The light immediately began to dim leaving her skin pale. Every magical soul in the room caught their breaths. This was the Hogwarts Vampire.  
  
Legend spoke of a vampire so old she lived in the very walls of the old school. She would come out every few decades to help a student who seemed promising. And if the rumors were true, she'd helped out every one of the heroes they were bringing back since Harry Potter. She looked angry and even the muggles knew there was something different about her. Divin remembered from somewhere that the only reason she was able to resist the call of the dark lords was her age. She was the oldest vampire in the world as far as any one could tell and here she stood.  
  
She seemed to look at each person separately but she addressed the room at large. "Stop. You have no idea what you are getting into. You have no proof this will even work. Stop now before it blows up in your faces."  
  
Beneyt looked as if he'd been hit. "You....you can't... you can't just burst in here... ma'am.... And expect us to stop..." He stuttered.  
  
She glared at him. But something had changed in her face. "You do as you please. But when this plan fails, I will have myself a grand laugh. One like I haven't had in centuries." and with that she was gone. It was as if it had never happened. Beneyt looked around as if to ask how to go on or if he should.  
  
People coughed and shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Divin glared. "Oh just get on with it!"  
  
Professor Pullium raised his wand again and before he had a chance to do say anything, a great silver and gold mist began to flow from his wand. It filled every crevice of the room and every one lost sight of the tables including those standing next to them. Then, the mist simply vanished and people looked around expecting it to have been the vampire coming back. But they found no trace of her. Instead, beneath the ten white cloths, ten figures had formed complete with noses and everything.  
  
***  
  
Harry lay in his mother's arms never questioning why none of his friends were there or why not any time seemed to pass. He simply existed with his family. His mother looked at him and laughed the eerie silent laugh and Harry smiled as his father came into view. But suddenly everything changed.  
  
The arms around him turned from the soft of her skin to cold marble and looking up he saw his mother's face go pale with fright. His father rushed at them but there was an invisible barrier that stopped him. Lily began to scream and Harry felt invisible hands grab him and yank him from her arms.  
  
Suddenly Harry awoke with a gasp. 


	2. Failed Beginnings

Journey of Legends By: Cheddar  
  
A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend: I don't own any of it except the plot and the characters who you all don't know from cannon. Don't sue me, I'm a very poor student with nothing but pocket lint to offer you. Although, if you want that then you can have it.  
  
  
  
Chapter Two: Failed Beginnings  
  
A soft white sheet covered his face and he had no idea where he was. He slowly pulled the sheet down and sat up only to see that about nine other people were doing the same. But where were his parents? Where was he?  
  
It was then that he noticed the people all sitting in chairs staring at him. A man on a table next to him sat up and looked Harry right in the eye. He wasn't the only one who had no idea what was going on. Looking around some more, Harry found to his amazement that he was dressed in his green dress robes that Mrs. Weasley had brought him last year for the Triwizard dance.  
  
People began to whisper frantically while a girl on a nearby table began to cry. "Where am I? What's going on?" Her face was horribly scared but her gray eyes were clear and filled with piteous tears and Harry shared her confused sentiment.  
  
Looking around with calmness he didn't know he possessed, Harry realized that every person on the tables were as panicked as he was. A man stood facing them wringing his hands and muttering. He began shouting things out in a such a fast manner that Harry wondered if he was even speaking English.  
  
Some boy that looked around Harry's own age rushed to close the curtains cutting them off from the highly unusual crowd. This brought some complaints but not many. But as Harry looked around him in fascination and a very controlled panic, questions began to worm their way out of his jumbled thought:  
  
Why was he here? Where was here? Last thing he remembered was... no. He wasn't going to think about that. A woman sitting in a chair next to him began to ask him questions very cautiously as if afraid he might kill her.  
  
"Do you know your name, sir?" Harry Looked at her. Her accent was one he had never heard before but she was clearly speaking English. He just stared at her. What the hell was going on? He heard her repeat the question. Still he gave nor response. "Sir?"  
  
"Harry Potter. Where am I?" He asked offhandedly. She looked at him queerly as if his accent was as alien to her and her's was to him.  
  
They looked at each other for a moment before she answered. "I don't think I'm the right one to tell you that, sir." She quickly cast her eyes down. Harry took the moment to glance around. Why was he wearing these robes? They were the ones Mrs. Weasley had brought him. His bright green ones. Hadn't he been wearing his normal school robes when... No! He wouldn't think about it. He would do what he had done all last summer after fourth year when Cedric died. He just wouldn't think about it.  
  
The girl near him who had been asking about where she was earlier was in a full panic now. She was on her feet and swinging around looking every where at once. "I can't remember. I can't remember. I can't remember..." She kept repeating it over and over like a mantra. Slowly she sank to the ground and curled into a tight ball still muttering. "I can't remember... I can't remember..."  
  
The woman sitting next to him along with every one else was staring at her like she was crazy. Her long brown hair covered her face but Harry could see tears falling through the veil.  
  
He slowly climbed off the table and stood only to find his legs shaky. The woman (damn, what was her name any way?) seemed to come to her senses right then in time to catch him as he spilled on to her. He was embarrassed. Why couldn't he stand?  
  
Another man on a table nearby tried to stand also and gave Harry a weak smile as he too slid to the floor. Harry smiled back. Another man sitting in a chair nearby helped up the other man as the woman in the Chair next to Harry helped him to stand on his feet. They were a little less shaky but not much. She helped him into her chair and went to talk to the man who had ordered the curtains closed. A voice near his ear startled him.  
  
"Do you have any idea what in the blazes is going on here?" Harry turned to find himself face to face with a man who could not have been more than twenty five or so.  
  
Harry shook his head. "I was hoping some one could tell me." The man nodded.  
  
"I have this strange feeling like I'm not supposed to be here. You know? Like it isn't right. Listen to me. I'm going crazy. May always said I would." He grew silent. Harry had no idea what he was talking about but it made sense. He did feel like he wasn't really suppose to be there. "By the way, my name's Max. Max Harrison. I have a feeling we're going to be spending a lot of time together."  
  
Harry nodded dumbly. He really didn't know how he was supposed to feel. He had no idea what was going on and from the looks of things no one else did either. And the people that did seem to know what was happening didn't seem to want to tell them.  
  
"Well I for one am going to find out what's going on here." Harry and Max both looked up to see a woman in her early forties, late thirties, stalking towards them. As she swept past them, Harry realized she was almost six feet tall and her eyes were hard and cold blue.  
  
The two males watched as she marched up to the group of people who had gathered at the front of the room. They all moved back as if afraid to touch her. The man who seemed to be in charge jumped back and began stuttering. She hadn't even spoken yet.  
  
"I'm... I'm sorry.... I...." He looked around and a man near by whispered her name to him.  
  
"Xira." This stopped her in her tracks.  
  
"How do you know my name?" She asked turning her icy gaze on to him.  
  
But the nervous man answered for him and 'Xira' turned back to glare at him. "Xira... Ms. Newt...ma'am...Well, let us wait for the others to join us and we... we'll answer any... questions you may have."  
  
"Damn right you will."  
  
The man turned to face the small room. "Please, if you could move in just a bit I'm sure you all must be wondering what's going on here." He let out a short nervous laugh but every one moved there chairs closer to him. Harry and Max found themselves at the back of the group but Harry didn't mind.  
  
"Now then, My name is Professor Beneyt Pullium. I am headmaster of Hogwarts school..." Harry missed what he said next because he was still trying to figure out where Dumbuldore was but he lost that train of thought in a hurry when he heard what Professor Pullium said next. "We have brought you all back from the dead..." Again words were lost on Harry as he tried to figure out what was going on.  
  
Harry was floored. He had no idea... He knew there was something off here but... he hadn't been dead had he? Had it really killed him? Dead. Was he really alive now? Was this some kind of dream? would he wake up to find Ron and Hermione? Would they laugh when he told them about this dream?  
  
Around him he noticed the others having similar reactions. Max had tears leaking out of his eyes which were tightly shut. Xira had sunk to the ground in shock. The girl who had said she couldn't remember had changed her chant. "I'm dead I'm dead I'm dead... I'm not real. I'm dead I'm dead I'm dead I'm not really here. This is some sick joke... Oh God oh God oh God oh God..." Another man nearby stared straight ahead as if he had not heard but his eyes were watching every thing and every one at the same time as if waiting for some one to say it was a joke. But there was no joke. It was real. He had really been dead... Right? He didn't know. He was so confused!  
  
He remembered nothing but perhaps he had not been dead that long. Perhaps... then where were his friends? A young woman had obviously thought of this at the same time Harry had for she asked, "What... what year is it? How long have we been gone?" She sounded like she didn't really want to know. Harry didn't blame her. Around him the faces all stopped their grief for their mortality, such as it had once been, and listened to hear the answer.  
  
Professor Pullium looked uncomfortable and Harry began to worry. What if he'd been dead for a long time? What if there was no one else left? "Miss. Kindell, thank you for... for bringing that up. Um... it's..." He looked panicked like a trapped rabbit. He drew his eyebrows together and looked around. He cleared his through. "It is the year 3721, Miss Kindell."  
  
The room broke into a panic. People began to cry and two of the men tried to attack Pullium. Max sat next to him crying openly now. Sobbing. Tears welled up behind Harry's own eyes.  
  
That long? How long was it even? Thousands of years. There was no chance any one he knew could be left. He was alone. He was too confused to try and figure out the exact number.  
  
Ron would never play chess again. Had any one ever beat him?  
  
The sounds of grief and anger rose around him and became like white noise. There but unable to be heard because there was so much of it.  
  
Hermione would never study for another test. Had she ever failed even one?  
  
The girl who could not remember had pulled herself into a sitting position and was humming silently to herself and she hugged her knees close and rocked back and forth. Harry could sympathize.  
  
Draco would never tease another muggle born. Had he ever become a death eater? Harry knew the answer to that but didn't want to think about it. Maybe if I don't it will all go away he thought.  
  
If I pretend it never happened...  
  
But it did happen and he was here now. Here in this new world with no one left but his memories that would haunt his dreams and every waking hour.  
  
***  
  
An hour later he found himself walking in a very subdued group up to Hogwarts castle. He had learned so much but none of it had penetrated the single thought that he was all alone now. There was nothing left. After this much time not even the pictures that had lined the halls in his time would remember him. The ghosts would have all moved on. There would be no one left.  
  
Looking up into the rainy night sky, Harry saw the castle looming down on him. It was just a bit bigger here and that tower was not there before was it? It was almost unrecognizable but when he squinted he could see the castle that had stood for so much to that tiny first year he'd been so many centuries ago. It was so hard for him to think of it like that but he knew it wasn't just last month that Ron had asked out Hermione.  
  
Next to him walked the others. They all shared this unspoken bond that the ones who had brought them back could never hope to understand or share. It was not something that could be explained in words. But as much of a bond as they shared walking in the light rain that night, they did not know any one.  
  
They had learned each other's names but they did not know them any better then that. Beside Harry was a short woman with black hair and exotic purple eyes. Harry searched his memory of the last hour for a name. Alexa. She didn't speak English and no one here spoke her language to act as interpreter but one boy had stepped forwards. He knew a little bit of her language. She had been almost as scared as the girl with no memory (Elyzabel, Harry had found out) until she heard the boy talking to her. He'd been so nervous. He had no idea if what he was saying was right or what this great warrior would think of him. Now she walked next to Harry with her interpreter next to her They still did not know why they had come back.  
  
Every time they asked the people would say that this wasn't the place to talk about it. And so here they were walking in the rain to the place Harry had once called home.  
  
Max walked next to him on the other side. He stared up in wonderment at the castle as did a few of the others. It was so obvious who had not gone to school here. Harry realized that as his time at Hogwarts had passed he had come to take more and more of it for granted. Now he felt nothing. He was too numb. There was nothing inside him to feel. Max let out a low whistle and Xira glared at him. But there was silence as the approached the dark palace.  
  
When they reached the door Professor Pullium opened it without a sound. And they all walked silently into the hall. They did not what to expect. They knew nothing and for Harry, that was a perverse comfort. Nothing more could shock him tonight but he had a feeling that there was a whole lot more that would make it smite him even more. Beneyt opened his mouth and announced that he was going to tell them more about what had happened since they died but thought better of it. "Tonight, I think, we shall get to know each other. It will be a long road and we will... Well, we will all need to know each other."  
  
"The hell! Why the fuck are we here?" A very tall man with dark brown hair demanded. He glared at every one as if daring them to challenge him.  
  
"Mr. Walsh, I assure you that I will explain everything in the morning."  
  
"No. Now." Walsh's voice was deep and loud. It left no room for disputation. But some one decided to challenge that.  
  
"No. I think it is right that we first get to know each other. We may have to rely on that later."  
  
"Well, Marcus was it? I don't give a shit about who the hell any of you are! I want to know why in God's fucking name I am here!"  
  
Marcus stood up and every one moved back as one. The schoolboy who had been translating the whole thing for Alexa jumped up to stand between them. Weland glared at him but Sean swallowed his fear.  
  
"Sir. This will accomplish nothing. Perhaps we could talk for a while?"  
  
Both men glared but sat down grumbling. Harry watched in silent fascination as Professor Pullium slipped out of the hall with a look of pure perplexity on his face.  
  
***  
  
Beneyt walked out. The whole plan had not hardly begun and it was already falling apart. Maybe he should have gone to the magic council and been shot down gracefully. It seemed hopeless. How could these warriors possibly accomplish anything if they hated each other.  
  
It was his mistake, Taking the advice of a muggle indeed. Why did things have to be so damn complicated? He should have thought it out. Never plan something without doing more planing he told himself.  
  
And now this whole fiasco was his fault. Not that little muggle woman who had actually said the words out loud or that accursed Divin Japelle who hinted at it. He had said yes because he knew that it would be just what he needed to make people see him as the hero who brought the world its warriors back. But now he would be remembered as a fool who had messed it up. As always.  
  
"One of these days, I'll get it right" he told himself. He just hoped it was true.  
  
***  
  
Meanwhile, the two people who had put the plan into words for the first time were wandering slowly around. It had been such a crazy evening thus far and both Helena and Divin needed a break. She had caught up to him as he was leaving the meeting room in a huff. "What's wrong?" she'd asked with concern in her eyes.  
  
Divin had looked down at her small frame noticing how fragile this muggle was. He couldn't help it. He'd smiled at her. "It's nothing. I need to think." But seeing the look on her face he relented. "Why don't you come along? I could use some company tonight." It had made her honey brown eyes light up.  
  
And so here they were. They had not spoken but the silence spoke volumes. It hadn't worked. Their plan had failed. After so much hopping and praying that they might finally be able to see their way clear to the other side of this very long and very dark tunnel, the light turned out to only be a passing train that had forced them back to where they had begun. Helena broke the silence first.  
  
"You know, when I first heard about you I thought you would be a jerk. And when I first heard myself suggesting this plan I was so scared that I had the guts to say something in front of some many wizards! I remember as a kid, my mom would tell me not to play with the wizards at school because they were why we were all alone. And you know something? I used to believe her. I grew up afraid that some witch was going to curse me some how if I stepped out of line. So I grew up to be afraid of you and now..." She stopped and looked up at the tall man. "I'm sorry... I was never very good with talking either. I always... I didn't mean to insult you." She looked like she was about to cry. It almost brought tears to his eyes. The young woman looked so like Her that he could hardly bare it.  
  
Her brown hair was so much like his dead wife's that he found himself about to murmur the wrong name. "Don't worry about it," He said coldly. "I wasn't insulted. I know what you ment."  
  
She gave him a weak smile. "I just say these things that I can't believe I said them and..." she shook her head. "It's like this whole thing with the warriors. I can't believe I said it you know? Like it wasn't me. And now the whole things falling apart when its hardly begun. One of them can't even remember her own name and another doesn't speak English. It's a god send that that boy can speak Gaelic! Nothing's like it should be. They were our last hope and it didn't work." Her small form gave way to sobs that racked her body. Divin felt uncomfortable. He'd never had to be the sensitive guy before. Mary had been a very strong woman. But Helena was nothing like that. She needed some one to hold her when she cried but he wasn't the right person to do that.  
  
Hell, for all Divin knew she was married with a kid or two or ten. But he was the only one out here so he put an awkward arm around her. "I feel so sorry for them. Every one they loved is gone. They have no one left. Even if I did become that famous I'd never want that to happen to me. I couldn't live knowing that every one I knew was dead. Every one I love... and even those I hate..." She was murmuring against his shoulder now but he still stood there like a schoolboy who was on his first date.  
  
She looked at him to ask a question and in that second she was Mary. And Mary was all Divin could see. She was as she had been in the weeks before their wedding. When everything was bright and she smiled just for the hell of it. Before he started to spend more and more time working and less and less with her. But it was too late to tell her that he was sorry. And before he knew what he was doing, Divin leaned in to kiss the small brown haired woman in front of him. "I'm sorry he muttered."  
  
Dimly he heard her: "I said..." But it was lost. He was sorry and now Mary knew that. With a smile he pulled back from her only to find himself face to face with the muggle girl from the meeting. Helena. She looked at him with a mix of confusion and excitement on her strangely familiar features. Stumbling back he almost feel in his frantic attempt to get away. He turned and ran but looking back he saw her face fall into a hurt mask that shattered and broke into tears that ran free as summer rain. And all he could hear was one thing.  
  
"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry..."  
  
***  
  
The library was alight with whispers. It had finally happened. All the anger and hate that Adela Hudsin and Milana Knight had broken. Well, it would be more accurate of the story teller to tell you that Adela's anger broke it flood gates. Milana simply sat there crying over her art as the younger girl insulted her.  
  
"And we all know that you're stupid. Oh! You try and hide it with the way you butter talk the teachers but you're nothing but a dumb squib. Come on, Milana! Say something! Or is your art more important than speaking up for yourself? I swear! Slytherins may well be clever but have no sense of honor!"  
  
The assembled crowed let out a ripple of interest. Richard tried to pull his girlfriend back but she shoved him off. "Adela. Come on."  
  
"No, Richard. I want to know what the freak has to say! Well? Do you really care more about some piece of shit art than people? She always spends her time locked away in her room. Why the hell is she so anti-social?"  
  
She was ranting now but the occupants of the room had left their books at their tables to come watch. Here was Adela Hudson, the smartest girl in school, cussing out a Slytherin. It didn't seem right but it just went to prove that even if you were smart, you weren't perfect.  
  
Milana made no response to the other girl's toughness. She just kept on drawing. The picture was rough around the edges because she was still sketching it but Adela's mind stirred at the sight of it. The faces were vague but still some how familiar. Like she saw them every day. But in her ranting she ignored the feeling. She ignored the silent tears that had begun to force their way out of Milana's eyes and down her pale checks. She ignored Guy St. Cloude the Ravenclaw who had forced his way to the front of the crowed and reached out to touch Milana on the arm. She just kept spouting hot air.  
  
Milana's head jerked back at Guy's touch. Her eyes were wide with pain and fear. Without a backwards glance she vaulted out of her chair and left at a flat run. No one even noticed the picture still lying on the table for all the world to see.  
  
Adela watched her leave surprised that she had run away. "You see? She can't stand people," she sneered at the assembled. They began to murmur and drift away. But Guy wasn't going to let that happen. He couldn't leave it like that.  
  
"What gives you the right to do something like that? It's not like you're perfect either," he spat. Adela looked coldly at him without flinching.  
  
The audience had regrouped to watch as round two was beginning. The Ravenclaw ignored the muttered questions about what was going on but they seemed to distract her housemate. Guy let his guard slip for just a moment as he turned to glance at the assembled and Adela took advantage of his distraction to nail him soundly in the jaw. It certainly got his attention focused right back on her where she wanted it to be.  
  
"You ever speak to me like that again, Guy St. Cloud, I make it a living hell for you in Ravenclaw tower."  
  
He took one look at her face with it's cold contempt and hatred and leaned over so he was right in her face. "Rot in hell, bitch." And he walked away with anger boiling in his veins.  
  
Adela stood fuming and sputtering while Richard patted her comfortingly on the back. Professor Dixon came bubbling out of some back room with her hair off-kilter and her robes being straightened by her very shaky hands. "What is going on here? Get back to work!" She huffed at the children. And with that went bubbling back to whatever dark corner she had crawled out of to whoever had shared it with her. The children all went back to whatever task had occupied their time before the interruptions. Adela and Richard huffed out to their secret tower while Guy went to see if he could find the object of his secret affection. And all the while, Milana sat in her room alone with not the slightest inkling of what had transpired after her abrupt departure. She still bevies in her heart of hearts that no one even cared...  
  
***  
  
Sean had never been so terrified in his life. What had he been thinking? Stepping between these two huge men? Both of them full grown with the ability to crush his thin frame as if he were nothing more than a twig? Damned good question. But he got no answer to his silent inquiry and thanked his lucky star for that.  
  
The men had both sat down and he was left standing there. He began t shake in fright. A soft touch brought him back to reality. Alexa gently led him over to a chair. Her hands shook badly but still her kind heart sat him down and she sank into the chair next to him.  
  
The room was silent as the grave for a moment. No one so much as breathed but the tension in the room was so thick it could have held water suspended in mid air. Sean sat warily. Every muscle i his body was tense with fright and the wonder of being around so many legends.  
  
He'd learned about each and every one of them in class and now he was here, in their misted and every hope and idea he'd ever had about them was being smashed into thousands of pieces. Weland Walsh and Marcus Cabot were ready to snap each other's necks and Sean sat helpless as the scene unfolded before him. Finally some one spoke.  
  
"Come one, every one. We don't need to be fighting. We're stuck here so we might as well figure out why." Dane Irish brushed his blue hair off his face and turned his cold brown eyes on the room at large.  
  
"I don't need any one telling me what to do or why so go find yourself some guy and fuck him!" Sean had already decided he didn't like Xira Newt. Her wild red hair was as loud as her voice. Sean watched Dane's face harden. Sure it was a well known fact that he was gay but he was still a great legend.  
  
"Fuck you, bitch." His voice was cold and hard. It sent chills up Sean's spine.  
  
"Whoa! No way in hell am I going to be doing anything with some fag!" spat Max Harrison as he rose to his feet in one boneless movement. "Either he leaves or I do."  
  
Sean knew he should step in but could not find the strength to move a muscle. So Max Harrison was homophobic. Damn.  
  
Harry Potter rose on shaking legs. "Maybe... maybe we should all just calm down-" But Marcus cut him off.  
  
"Why the fuck is he here? He's just a kid. What in hell could he do?" Sean watched as the young wizard sank back into his chair. Monica Kindell wrapped her arm around his thin shoulders as his eyes fixed on the wall above Sean's head.  
  
"Has the whole of the wizarding world gone to seed! How in God's name could you all have let it get this bad?" He looked around. "And where is that Beneyt fellow? Isn't he supposed to be controlling all of this shit?" Sean sat quaking under Marcus's triad. His knees knocked together as his mind searched for an answer. Where was the headmaster?  
  
***  
  
Kid. That was what Marcus had called him. Just a kid. Like when he'd been chosen to be the forth person in the triwazard tournament. Once again he wasn't Harry Potter, the boy who lived, he was just the 'boy.' The little kid.  
  
In those last moments he'd been more than that. He'd been... he'd been a god's son. He'd watched friends as close and closer than family die before his very eyes and now he was going down in a final blaze of glory. There would be no time after he killed Voldemort, this was it... He was gone... The child who lived was gone... Replaced by a man who had killed other men. For indeed he had. Harry could not block out that memory...  
  
***  
  
Helena didn't know where she was going. The kiss seemed like a bad dream. Something she had wanted so badly that turned out to be a curse once she got it. He legs did not stop to let her think as they sped her along down the halls towards their secret destination. Secret because their owner did not even know it.  
  
She burst into a room that was normally empty this time of night. But as bad luck would have it, it was full of people. And not just any people but the wizard legends. The one's she heard about her whole life. The one's that had gotten her into this whole love mess.  
  
One of them, a tall man with brown hair rounded on her as she entered the room. "And muggles!" He exclaimed. "Why in the hell do muggles know about us? Wasn't all of this supposed to be some great secret? She shouldn't even be in these hallowed walls much less in my presence!" Helena gasped as the very egotistical man kept up his rant. She couldn't stay there. Her legs got the message of fear and panic from her brain and took off again. But they didn't get as far this time.  
  
Just outside the door she ran smack into Divin. He grabbed her about her arms and looked as if he couldn't decided whether to kiss her or to run as she was doing. She let out a strangled gasp as his hands cut too hard into her flesh and the sounds of yelling from the room behind her broke out. Divin looked up and Helena used his distraction to break free.  
  
She took off like a roman candle down the hall. She never looked back. She never saw the look of pain and sorrow crossing Divin's face. Her own pain burned to harshly.  
  
***  
  
The long silver blade left no mark or blemish on Milana's perfectly smooth skin as she dragged it gently over her forearm. She wanted to press down. Play the knife game. She if she really could get to a thousand cuts before she died.  
  
The knife had been a gift from her father. That was a joke. Father. He didn't care about her. All he cared about was whether she would follow in his footsteps and serve one of the dark wizards. He's given her the knife last year for her birthday. It was the only gift she'd ever gotten from him. Barring the scars and bruises he gave her whenever she was home of course. They weren't gifts.  
  
The winds ruffled the heavy drapes of her bed and she looked up. When had the window been opened? She was sure she had closed it when she'd come in the room. Sighing she dragged her wary body off her bed and pulled the glass pane shut.  
  
Back sitting on her bed the knife traces patterns and lines on her arms. Invisible scars that she'd healed after her father had administered them. Her mother never even noticed any of it was going on. If Milana had told her mother about the rape she'd have just laughed in her face. But it had been so real. So terrifyingly real.  
  
The people at school hadn't noticed anything out of joint either. To them, her hair had always been this long and no one said a word about her loose fitting robes and few extra pounds. All the steps she'd taken so she'd never look like she had that night. Tears slipped down her face cutting tracts in the dirt and grim that had accumulated there because she'd stopped caring about her hygiene. And no one even knew...  
  
"Give me one good reason," she whispered to the room. "One reason why I shouldn't do it." Her words were harsh and cold. Foreign to her own ears. Her hand trembled before releasing the knife. Her body sank into the blankets and the curtains pulled themselves shut around her. Live to die another day.  
  
***  
  
The red-hair vampire watched from the shadows. So this had not been the night then? She knew it was coming and that when Milana did get up the courage to take her life then the lives of the entire population of the world would be changed. But tonight was not the night. And with that thought, the vampire slipped back into the shadows and down to her lair. At home among the skeletons of her past.  
  
***  
  
They were to sleep in the teacher's chambers. There had always been extra rooms but in past years even more had opened up as classes were dropped or teachers were killed. Many teachers now taught two or three classes. The houses all learned together with all four of them in one class room to accommodate the abilities of the meager teaching staff.  
  
Each of the so-called legends (Harry was begining to doubt what he was being told) was to be given his or her own room. Harry looked around his with a wary interest that was only brought on by the curiosity of who had occupied the room in his years at Hogwarts. But the blank stone walls yielded no answer to his silent quandary. With a sigh he fell in to bed and into dreams. 


	3. The difference between dreams and realit...

Journey of Legends  
  
By: Cheddar Chapter  
  
A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend: I don't own any of it except the plot and the characters who you all don't know from cannon. Don't sue me, I'm a very poor student with nothing but pocket lint to offer you. Although, if you want that then you can have it.  
  
Chapter Three: The difference Between Dreams and Reality  
  
He'd never been here before, being it awake or dreaming, although that was soon becoming less of a novelty. Harry stood some where on a long road. It did not stretch out in front of him for miles but instead twisted and turned and somehow, Harry knew it was an immensely long road. He was in the middle of an impenetrable forest and up ahead, he could see something moving through the trees, so Harry took off at a run.  
  
The figure took on a more human appearance as it moved through the trees and then suddenly it wasn't there anymore. Harry drew to a stop so quickly he almost lost his balance. As he stumbled forward, avoiding any impact with the gravel, he felt his head hit something fleshy. Looking up, he heard the familiar laughter of Dumbledore and saw the face that went with it.  
  
His relief at seeing someone so dear to him washed over him in a wave of warmth and comfort. But then a thought struck him. "Professor. Why aren't you among the warriors?"  
  
Dumbledore looked at him for a moment with the same twinkle in his eyes as he always did, told Harry that he wasn't sure he should tell him why. "Because, Harry. Not all battles are fought in the present. Sometimes we must wait for the present to come to us." Harry was puzzled by what this could mean but suddenly, Dumbldore was gone as he'd never been and the road twisted on ahead.  
  
There it was again, the shape rushing through the forest. Harry now saw it as a boy about his own age, possibly a bit younger, with sandy blonde hair and a panicked look. Harry went after him at a run. As he ran, the openness of the area where he had begun the journey was clouded over with trees and the sun as well as the sky was long gone.  
  
Suddenly he spotted a head covered in bright red hair. He knew that hair. The familiarity of it fell on him like a blow to the gut. It was Ginny! In a burst of speed that can only be achieved in dreams, Harry was off. The shape he'd been following before was fading into the trees in its search for whatever it was searching for but Harry only had eyes for that bright red hair.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye though, he spotted something else worth stopping for. Hermione and Ron stood on the wayside of the road in a single shaft of sunlight. Harry expected Ginny to stop as well but instead she sped up. Harry just stood looking at his two friends. As he stood there they both burst into flames. They remained as impassive as before but the winds swept the fire upwards and smoke shut out the sun from that tiny patch of forest. The smoke blinded Harry. When it cleared, he could hardly believe his eyes.  
  
Before him, the bonfire burned bright but his friends had been replaced by a painting in a large gilt frame. But more striking than that was the subject of the painting. It was Harry! It was himself and Ron and Hermione and Ginny! He remembered this painting but even in dreams he refused to think about what had passed. It was just too painful.  
  
Harry stared at the picture and soon noticed that the subjects of the portrait existed once more in the flames just as Ron and Hermione had earlier. They did not see the flames licking at their robes. A girl sat before them with a stick of charcoal in her hand, busy working on a sketch. Harry remembered her too, but blocked that memory from his mind.  
  
Behind him, Harry could hear the soft notes of a piano playing. He turned around only to find himself, once more, in a place he did not know. But the person seated behind the piano was, again, some one he knew. Elyzabel Petty sat picking out the gentle notes of Beautiful Dreamer. He was so wrapped up in her music and for a moment, her horribly disfigured face didn't matter. Her hands danced like spiders across the keys wringing forth notes that sent chills down Harry's spine. In that instant, she wasn't the lost girl he'd met that day with no idea who she was. This was the real thing. This was her heart and soul being coaxed out of the ancient wooden instrument.  
  
Harry's dream world came back into focus and he could hear small pitiful sounds coming from another corner. Looking over he saw Alexa lying on the floor, her arms were tightly wrapped around her midsection and sweat rolled from her face. Harry could tell she was dying but found he was unable to go comfort her. Dane walked out of the wall next to her frail form. The figure Harry had chased there followed them out. It was a boy about his own age wearing the Ravenclaw crest on his robes. Harry watched as the trio faded from view.  
  
Elyzabel's song had changed and while it was still familiar, he couldn't place it. Turning around, he was confronted with the painting on the wall once more. The artist sat before it with her back to Harry. Leaning forwards, he gently laid a kiss on the image of Ginny's lips. It was one of many uncontrollable dream actions, but it never the less set several things in motion at once.  
  
Ginny's face warped into that of a vampire with fangs and all while the painting itself became a wizard painting. The artist stood and held a hand out to Ginny who reached through the canvas and took it. The other images in the frame seemed frightened but angry as Ginny's voice floated over the soft piano notes. "You saved me."  
  
"What?" Harry asked, but no one answered. Fire once more flooded the room and when it cleared Elyzabel and Harry were the only things left in the scarred room. "Elyzabel. What's... What's going on?" Harry asked.  
  
"That's not my name." Gone from her voice was the fear and uncertainty that had marked their meeting. This seemed an entirely different person. Harry blinked and when he opened his eyes he was right back where the dream had started. Once more the road stretched endlessly in front of him and Harry knew that if he began to walk it again it would turn out different.  
  
The voice floated over the trees. He didn't know who's it was but it came none the less. "Go, Harry. Start this journey. You can't finish the others until you do. Go. Run!" And he ran.  
  
***  
  
"Can you understand me now?"  
  
Sean's voice seemed to echo in the stillness of the library. No one else was around but the two of them. Who else but a history nut and a newly risen woman would have use for books at that hour? She gave him a puzzled look.  
  
"Guess that would be a 'no' then," he said. She raised an eyebrow at him questioningly.  
  
"Why don't we just give up for tonight? We can find a translating spell in the morning." Her voice was soft and Sean stumbled along after her ancient Gaelic speak.  
  
"One more try" He suggested, as best he could. At her giggle he assumed he'd somehow muddled it up. Oh well.  
  
The pile of books before them included such titles as Translating for Dummies, English Spells for the Advanced, and English: Grade Six-which incidentally was simply filled with endless and needless names for grammar and parts of speech. None of them were much help.  
  
"Here!" Alexa exclaimed. "Look!" Sean pulled the book towards him.  
  
"Hablas semejante demelo?" He said confused as a curl of glittery purple smoke curled out of his wand and into Alexa's mouth.  
  
"Yes!" She said in perfect English. "We found it! Thank you so much!" She leapt to her feet and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. "I will see you later, no? Good night!" And so obviously pleased she left Sean reeling in the fact that he had just received his first kiss from a woman who was supposed to be long dead.  
  
***  
  
Divin had been admired all of his life. As a spy and captain of the army he had been hailed from shore to shore all over the world. During those bright times, when he had his family and friends and everything else a man could ask for, he was so very happy. But when all of that changed, when the dark began growing stronger by the second. He truly thought he could never be that happy again.  
  
His world was crushed under the weight of the nightmares that plagued his sleep of watching his wife die and his children tortured. He had been so helpless. For so long been such a strong man but in those hours of darkness, his true weakness had shown through. It was something he could never find forgiveness for.  
  
So then what had happened? For that single moment in Helena's arms he was once more the happy man but could not admit that he was happy without his wife. He felt it was cheap and a disgrace to her memory. And now he'd ruined what ever he might have once had with Helena.  
  
"You're a broken man, Japelle," he told himself. "Once more, you've messed up something perfectly." And with that glomming thought, he walked slowly towards his home.  
  
***  
  
Just on the other side of the castle at that moment, the object of Divin's confusion sorted through her own thoughts. "I was a fool. Mother always told me, 'stay away from those wizards, Helena. They're bad news. They're what got us into this mess in the first place.'"  
  
And so for years, Helena has avoided them. In school she had ignored them and now as an adult she had been doing the same. But how can you ignore some one when they seem to be everywhere. That first meeting with him had scared her out of her wits, but she had grown used to his peeress as time went on and even began to enjoy it.  
  
So what had happened? He'd called her Mary that's what. It hurt her more than she could have ever guessed it would to know that he wasn't in love with her. He loved some other woman.  
  
"I'll bet she's prettier too," she muttered bitterly. "I'll bet she doesn't stammer like an idiot in front of people. I'll bet that's why he loves her." Uncontrollable tears rolled down her face as she waked slowly towards the nearby town.  
  
It was once a wizarding town but had been taken over by muggle refugees about fifty years ago. She lived in a tiny shack out by an outcropping of rocks behind the town. Her roof leaked so whenever it rained she went into one of the caves. She loved it in there. It looked like some one had lived there a very long time ago. She had found the place where this person lit their fires and threw their bones. Thankfully none of them were human. "Humans break too easily," she thought.  
  
***  
  
While Sean sat in a state of post-first-kiss-bliss, his brother Richard did much the same. Only it wasn't his first kiss. To be precise it was his twenty-first. Each and every single one of them had been with the same woman... uh... girl. But none-the-less, this kiss felt like the each had. Like it was the first.  
  
To Richard Milo, Adela Hudson was the best thing that ever happened to him. She lit up every corner of his life Dan yet he had no idea about the torch she carried for his own brother. If he'd known, he sure as hell wouldn't be up here in their own secret place talking about the plans, which had been laid bare before the entire school a few nights before. Well, not with Adela at any rate.  
  
"It's so weird isn't it? To think that we can bring a person back from the dead at any time. If I were choosing who came back from our own time I know would I wouldn't pick." Adela's hate for the Slytherin girl burned bright and Rich tried to steer away from that topic.  
  
"I wonder if we'll get to meet them. I mean imagine, Harry Potter! Not just one of those pictures on the wall. The real thing... Listen to me, I sound like Sean now." She giggled softly and snuggled closer.  
  
"I think I'd want to meet Marcus Cabot. He sounds like he'd be really neat doesn't he? Professor Binns should talk more about them than his stupid goblin rebellions!"  
  
Rich laughed. "Yeah, or how many times Harry Potter saved the world."  
  
"I swear, that's the only time he shows any enthusiasm. 'Now some of you may know that young mister Potter used to be in my class. He sat in these same desks. Good kid he was.'"  
  
They both spent a minute in silence staring at the painting. It seemed as if the black haired boy knew he was the subject of their conversation. "Wow," Richard began. "To think that he's really-"  
  
But Adela cut him off. "-I bet that Slytherin twit thinks she's good enough to get noticed by one of them! She thinks she's so perfect! I stand by my belief that all Slytherins are evil. She thinks she's such hot stuff. 'Oh! Look at me! I live at the castle! I'm in Slytherin! I'm drawing a picture!' She can't even draw a wizard picture. She's too stupid!"  
  
"Hey, go easy on her. Her folks are dead."  
  
"Are you sticking up for her now?" Adela's voice dripped with something dangerous.  
  
"No," he said slowly. "I'm just saying that even if you hate her you could at least give her a break and stop teasing her for a while. You know, see if she stops whatever it was that was pissing you off."  
  
"Just being herself pisses me off, Richard."  
  
"I just meant, lay off her for a while. You know, study for midterms. They can't be that far off now."  
  
"It's not even Halloween."  
  
"Just promise me?" he pleaded hopefully.  
  
"Fine." He smiled.  
  
"Thanks babe."  
  
"Don't call me that."  
  
"All right then."  
  
"Rich?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Shut up. I'm trying to sleep."  
  
***  
  
"Have you seen Milana?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Never mind." And Guy St. Cloude raced on down the hall. It was unusually crowed for the late hour. People knew that tonight was the night that Professor Beneyt was to bring the warriors back to life.  
  
But the hows and whys of that particular thought were furthest from Guy's mind at that time. The turns and twists of the school's halls blurred until it seemed as one unending passage. Each face he passed held the same look of wonder. He heard snatches of conversations as he passed.  
  
"I hear that one of them is crazy! That it's-"  
  
"I hear that Max Harrison is-"  
  
"-And that we get to meet them! Isn't that-"  
  
"I wonder if he's as hot in real life as-"  
  
But none of it mattered to Guy as he sped forwards causing several students to stop short and others to run into each other. But Guy was unaware of the chaos in his wake. None of it mattered... until he ran headlong into something that was defiantly NOT stone.  
  
Looking up he found his gaze met by the strangest shade of purple eyes he'd ever seen. He was sure he'd never seen this person before.  
  
"Are you all right?" She asked happily. Her accent was strange and Guy wondered what she had to be so happy about. But one thing was for sure; he didn't know her.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine." Looking closer at her, he realized that she was not a student by any stretch of the imagination. She looked about thirty or maybe a bit younger.  
  
"Where are you going? Are you looking for some one? Maybe he can help?" She seemed happy just to be talking. "What's this?" It was then that Guy realized she held Milana's picture. "This is really good. You know, I used to paint before..." Her eyes glazed over and she looked ready to cry. Guy didn't know what to make of it.  
  
"I'm looking for the girl who drew it. Can you help me find her? This girl... another girl... she insulted her and well, I'm worried about Milana."  
  
"Is Milana the artist?" Guy had decided he liked the way this Oman spoke, like a child almost. With wonder and fear mixed in her every word. "I will help you find her. I would like to meet this artist who can capture people so well."  
  
And so Guy found himself with a companion in his hunt. Her name was Alexa but this did nothing to faze Guy. It didn't even connect in his head who she might be. She was just there to help him and for all he knew, she might be a gift from the gods. So with her claming influence, he searched methodically throughout the castle.  
  
***  
  
He'd never been kissed before. That's what fist kiss meant though right? It did not faze the boy that it had come from one of the people he was constantly reading about.  
  
"What a joke," he told himself. She was happy. That's got to be the best thing that has happened to her all night. First, coming back from the dead and then not understanding a word anyone was saying to her. Sean thanked his stars that he'd been gifted with a thing for languages. It was the one thing he had that he could truly be proud of. His knowledge of history wasn't even his own. That was something his father had forced on him.  
  
But maybe... Could Alexa's kiss have possibly meant more to her than a thank you? Part of him prayed that that was the case. But another part of him feared it. She was dead and destined to die again. Sean didn't know if he could live with that. Live with knowing he would, in all likelihood, outlive her by a very considerable amount.  
  
She would die in battle because they planed on forcing her to fight when every one knew it was her mind that was her weapon. She would be a sitting duck on the battlefield. But Sean was a student. Professor Pullium had only admitted him into his confidence so far. He, as a student, would never be allowed on the field. Something Sean almost hated.  
  
"God speed Alexa. And good luck... to both of us."  
  
***  
  
Alexa held the picture firmly in her hand as she made her way carefully through the almost familiar halls and corridors. She had an idea of where the girl might be. From what Guy had told her, Milana spent a lot of her time locked away in her room. So that was where Alexa was headed.  
  
In her own time, Alexa had been a Slytherin. That had been way back when the school was first founded. Back before all Slytherins were considered evil. When Godric and Rowena had been so madly in love that they turned a blind eye to almost every wrong turn Salazar took. Back when... Her mind boggled at the thought of all the time that was passing. But she pushed out these thoughts not wanting to be impeded with what she could never change. There would be another time to grieve. Later.  
  
With an unwavering speed, she made her way down to where her own dormitories had once been. Praying that they still stood there, she kept her eyes and ears open for any clue of a password or change of location.  
  
Two boys walked towards a painting of a tall man with dark hair. He was slumped in a chair in a potions classroom with a look of weariness on his face that Alexa knew well. As the boys approached the man looked up. "Password?" His voice was oily smooth with a dangerous edge to it that reminded her of Xira.  
  
The boys ignored him and stopped beside the irate looking man. "I can't believe it! Harry Potter! Here!"  
  
"Yeah! And... and... Dane Irish!"  
  
The painting sneered. "Harry Potter was nothing more than a teacher's pet who had his way paved for him by the deaths of his parents." He snapped out at them. "Trust me. I was his teacher!"  
  
The boys exchanged bewildered looks and one blurted out, "elf blood" and ran inside the opening created by the word. Alexa stared at the painting before approaching and repeating the password to a still puttering picture.  
  
"Oh yes! I remember Potter. Called me 'Snape' all the time! Only ever called me 'professor' to my face. So he's back huh? Hey! Aren't you a little old to be a student here?"  
  
But she ignored him and found the room empty; just as she remembered it.  
  
***  
  
Milana lay on her bed. Not sleeping. Not thinking. Not moving. Hardly breathing. Just existing. The dark green velvet above her stretched and her fingers itched to draw the shadows and wrinkles of the ancient drapes.  
  
Down the hall she could hear her dorm mates in the second years' dorm talking about the warriors they were bringing to life to night. Milana couldn't help but speculate what it must be like to be so well known... and so well liked. It seemed to the fifteen year old that no one liked her. She had no knowledge of Guy's nighttime searching that night.  
  
But all that wondering got her nowhere. It gained her no fame, nor any popularity. Milana was never to learn that the two were often very different and this ignorance comforted her.  
  
As she lay there, she heard the noise down the hall quiet and then resume and soon came a soft knock at the door. She didn't want to se anyone for who would want to see her?  
  
"Come in," she said just loud enough to be heard. The door opened and in stepped a short woman with long black hair.  
  
"Are you Milana?" She asked with an accent the girl on the bed had never heard before.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"A friend of yours was looking for you. You left this in the library." The woman held out her picture!  
  
"Who gave this to you?"  
  
"He said his name was Guy. He's a friend of yours? She made it a question.  
  
"No he's not. I don't have any friends." As soon as the morbid words were out of her mouth, Milana regretted them.  
  
"Sure you do. Friends worry about you. Guy was really worried."  
  
"Yeah well everyone knows he's not all there." There was a long silence. "Can I have my picture now?" Milana held out her hand but the woman held on to it looking at it like she'd never seen any kind of art in her life.  
  
"This is really good." She squinted at one of the figures. "This boy here looks like... that boy... umm... I think his name is Harry Potter?" Milana's head shot up.  
  
"Really? Are you... are you one of the... well, you know. The ones they brought back?"  
  
"I suppose you could say that. My name is Alexa."  
  
Milana was floored. Why did this great legend of history and myth care anything about her? "Then why are you up here talking to me instead of down there with all the popular kids?" Milana asked with a cold edge creeping into her voice.  
  
Alexa looked at her with a curious look on her face. After a pause she replied. "Because, they talk about what they wish us each to be like. Not how any of us truly are..." She shook her head. "We are humans who did the right thing well when we first lived. Everyone here expects us to do the same but don't see us as human. They see us as the legends that history has painted. But in truth, we are so different from what you could imagine. Do you understand what I'm saying here, Milana?"  
  
Milana thought it over. "I think so. You're up here and not down there because I'm treating you like a person... which you are... or something like that."  
  
Alexa laughed. It was a sweet sound that made Milana want to run to the warmth of. " And yes, to answer your earlier question, I do like the picture. I shall have to tell Harry about it in the morning." She got up to leave. "I'm going to bed now, but Milana?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"About the friends. I had a hard time letting people in when I was younger and that drove away a lot of people who might have been my friend. I see so much of that in you. Guy really likes you. Talk to him some time, huh?"  
  
"I will." Milana's face broke into a grin for the first time in a long while. It felt good to have a friend. "Good night."  
  
"Good Night."  
  
***  
  
The red haired vampire once more kept her vigil, but this time it was over a different youth. Harry Potter lay in the throws of a nightmare but the vampire could do little more than watch. Allowing him to she her was the last thing she wanted.  
  
With a slight smile and soft kiss on his forehead, she was gone and in that instant, Harry awoke with a gasp to a new down, 1719 years after he should have been dead. 


	4. The Surprise

Journey of Legends  
  
By: Cheddar Chapter  
  
A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend: I don't own any of it except the plot and the characters who you all don't know from cannon. Don't sue me, I'm a very poor student with nothing but pocket lint to offer you. Although, if you want that then you can have it.  
  
Chapter Four: The Surprise  
  
That morning found the castle alight with more whispers and theories than any other morning anyone could remember. Rumors flew like the tiny snitches that no longer buzzed about the pitch and everyone had something different to believe.  
  
"Well I heard that they all went crazy and killed Professor Pullium," one Ravenclaw said to another.  
  
"I wish that were true!" injected a Gryffindor. "I heard that the Slytherins had one of them up in the girls' dorm last night!"  
  
"What? Why would they go visit the Slytherins?"  
  
"I know I would never..."  
  
"Who asked you anyways? They weren't in our common room last night that's for sure. If they had been you'd know." A boy said. Everyone turned to glare at the Slytherins. Seam Milo hid a secret smile as he walked past them all and into the dining hall. Guy followed him shortly doing much the same, blissfully unaware that Sean knew as well. It had hit him right before he fell asleep last night whom the woman was.  
  
"Anyways..."  
  
"Yeah, I bet it's true. You know those Slytherin girls would do anything..." It was Adela and she held every one's attention as she let her words trail off. And, being normal teenagers, no matter what year it was, they all leaped to one thing. A giggle broke the quiet and everyone erupted in excited whispers.  
  
"You'd never see a Ravenclaw doing anything like that!"  
  
"Or a Hufflepuff!"  
  
"That's the point, stupid! That no one sees you!"  
  
"Oh."  
  
Every one laughed at the girl and she flushed deep crimson. "Ravenclaws are so naive!" One of the Gryffindors said.  
  
"But smart!" Everyone groaned as they filed into the hall talking loudly about the Warriors.  
  
The hall was loud and filled with people running from table to table talking and what had been mere whispers in the hall had become loud shouting in here. The teachers hurried here and there making sure everything was as perfect as possible and trying to get the students to settle down.  
  
Professor Pullium stood at the staff table with thoughts of all the past headmasters in his head. Would they have done the same? Would Dumbledore have his students already in their seats? Would he have the warriors here at all? Would Dippit have hidden them away for a while until they had time to a just? Would he have known what to do? Because at the moment, Beneyt had no idea what he was doing.  
  
He stood slowly hoping the students would notice and quiet, but they didn't. He held up his hands for silence but they ignored him. Finally, the deputy headmaster, Professor Barron shouted out, "Silence!" and there was. Beneyt nodded his head to the man and turned back to the assembled crowd.  
  
"I know each of you are waiting to hear the results of the spell cast last night." He pushed. Had it really only been last night? It seemed longer. "I have good news. They are here, each of them. In a little while you will be introduced to them. I expect you to be on your best behavior while they are here."  
  
He almost felt bad for hemming and hawing around the truth like that. Sure they were all there but come on, they didn't get along, Elyzabel Petty had amnesia and they were going to start a war among themselves before they stopped the war they were brought back to win. He sighed. They were going to need lots of help in the days ahead that was for sure.  
  
***  
  
When Harry woke up the next morning, he didn't know what was going on. He didn't know where he was or what had happened. Then it all came flooding back to him in a flood of memories. The finale, battle, dying, coming back, the dream. The room came sharply into focus at this and Harry wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep and wake up to find out that it had all been a nightmare. But he couldn't. The voices in the hall were too loud.  
  
Getting up, he went over to the wardrobe at the other end of the room. Inside he found some of his own things. Tears welled up in his eyes. This was all he had left of his own world. His own time.  
  
He still wore the bottle green robes that Mrs. Weasley had gotten him in fourth year. The ones he'd woken up in. In the closet was a set of black robes. He pulled them on over his head and reached for his wand, which lay in a slim box at the bottom of the wardrobe next to an envelope containing what he found to be his parents wedding rings. They'd been a gift from Dumbledore in sixth year. His photo album from Hagrid was there too, along with the necklace that Ron had given to Hermione so many years ago. He shut the doors fast before he could dwell more on it. He wasn't going to think about it.  
  
He slipped out into the hall only to find most of his fellow warriors out there already. Max gave him a thin smile which Harry only half heartily returned. The revelation about him being so homophobic really disturbed Harry on some level. But then too, this feeling betrayed him as well. Hadn't Max been the first one to be nice to him last night?  
  
Xira and Weland were arguing again. This time it was about where they should be going. Xira wanted to go to the great hall but Weland opted for going to the headmaster's office. "Have you looked at a clock, Walsh? It's breakfast time! He's not in his office!"  
  
Harry ignored them. He amended his earlier thought about almost every one being there. They were there in that cramped hallway. Dane had his arm around Elyzabe,l who hid her face in his chest. Max glared at that. Monica and Marcus were talking softly with Amide while Alexa smiled simply at everyone.  
  
Finally, it seemed that Marcus had had enough and declared his intention of going to the great hall. "Come if you want." They all followed him because none of them wanted to be lost here alone. Who knew what might have happened? They'd all been gone a long time.  
  
***  
  
They began arguing about the right rout to take about ten minutes later. Marcus insisted it was to the left while Max stated at it lay in the hallway to the right. Dane glared at him and said we'd passed it already while Alexa put in merrily that it that it was above them. Monica groaned. "And we're supposed to win a war? We can't even find breakfast!" Harry couldn't help but suppress a laugh.  
  
"Wait! I hear something! I think it's over there!" Elyzabel shouted.  
  
"What does she know?" Weland sneered. "She can't even remember her own name."  
  
"No," Amide said slowly. "I hear it too."  
  
They were silent for a moment and in a rush they all set off down the hall like the gun had gone off. The race was on. Each person seemed more competitive than the last. Harry realized something as he quickened his steps to match Dane's. They were all so used to being the best and the fastest and the smallest that all of these new warriors bugged them. Even him.  
  
As it turned out, Alexa had been right. The Hall did lie above them. The hallway in which they had stood ended in a staircase that led to a small chamber just off the Great Hall. Harry rem embered this place. He smiled despite himself. At the glimpse of the ceiling through the door, he knew he was home.  
  
***  
  
Beneyt saw them before the rest of the staff only because he knew where to look. It had really been Professor Barron who heard them before any one else though no one was surprised. That woman could hear a swear word on the other side of the hall at the welcoming feast. Her eyes narrowed at the unfamiliar voices and she looked to the headmaster, whereupon every one at the high table heard it too.  
  
The headmaster tried to look like he had it all under control. Why were they here? It wasn't supposed to happen like this!... Isn't that the story of my life? So he stood and walked as calmly as possible over to the small room there and went in with not one of the student noticing the not so great event.  
  
They were all there. Harry, Max, Alexa, Dane, Elyzabel... each and every one of the ten stood before him. A miss-matched group that seemed to struggle simply being near each other. Not the kind of thing he'd hoped for when the plan had first been born inside his head. He stood before them like sinner before God and no one said a word.  
  
Professor Barron walked in then and in her normal no-nonsense way, she began to tell get person what was going on. "You each come up in front of the staff table when I call your name and stand there while I introduce you. When I am finished you will take a seat at the table to the left of the staff table, I'm sure you can each find it without assistance."  
  
She turned to Pullium. "There is a hoard of ministry wizards here as well as half of the council. They're mad as hell but I told them they couldn't talk to you until tonight." She turned briskly to face the room at large. "Are we ready then?" And with that she left leaving them al stunned. Beneyt gathered himself up without having said a word, and followed her out. The warriors were left stunned and none said anything as the voice of some one they did not know echoed in through the open door way. "Alexa McRyan," was the first name called and someone whispered good luck to her as she steeped slowly out on to the platform.  
  
"I guess that means that I'm next," Amide said as the crowd broke in to cheers. Her name was called and she too left. The remaining eight stood awkwardly. Not knowing what they should do, they began to drift into a line along the back wall as if that would keep them from having to go out there and face all those people.  
  
Harry was reminded of his fourth year. Why did this whole thing seem so much like it? This was that same room he'd been in so long ago. The faces around him though, they were so alien to him that he began to wonder if in his longing for death he'd not earned it but instead earned himself a place in St. Mungo's. Marcus was called out and Weland Walsh followed in his wake. Elyzabel Petty left slowly on quaking legs and Harry knew then that he was next. His knees began to knock and his heart to pound. He began to sweat along his hair line as his palms slipped away from each other. He hadn't known he was clasping them. Monica met his eyes in sympathy as his name was called. "Harry Potter" It seemed louder in his ears than anything in the world.  
  
He took a few wavering steps, praying that he wouldn't end up in a helpless heap on the floor. But some how he made it. He could hardly see the faces before him as he stepped up to cheers. Behind him a man in tacky yellow and brown robes called out his feats. Harry felt sick. All he wanted was for this to be over.  
  
It seemed like forever, but it finally was. He sank with relief into an empty chair at the table. Every one who was already there gave him sympathetic looks. He tried to smile as Dane's name was called.  
  
***  
  
Adela wasn't paying very close attention as her potions teacher rattled off names and dates. Her mind had drawn a complete black when she'd seen his face. It was the boy from her painting. Up in her secret spot! It really was Harry Potter. She smiled. She knew it! All along, she'd known it was him. Rich was looking at her queerly but she ignored him. Next to her, Anne Brach leaned over to whisper, "I think he's hot," to which she could only nod. She missed the rest of the introductions.  
  
***  
  
Across the hall at the Slytherin table, Milana was going through much the same thing. When Alexa's name had been called, the girl had sat up just that much straighter and she smiled, knowing that she knew her. She knew something the rest of her schoolmates didn't. Up there, each one of them looked so mature and professional but Milan knew what was really going on. Her heart swelled with pride to see her newfound friend standing there.  
  
But if Alexa made the young Slytherin's heart lift then the sight of Harry Potter made her heart falter. She knew that face! She'd never seen him in her entire life and yet she knew him. She had drawn that face every day. It had haunted her like a nightmare that invaded her waking hours. It was the boy from her painting! That was whom she'd been drawing in the library when Adela had insulted her. That was why Alexa had said it looked like him. Because it was him... But how?  
  
***  
  
  
  
After breakfast, Beneyt watched as the student filed talking excitedly while the visitors was hustled out by the various staff members. Everyone kept looking back to get one last look at the warriors. Beneyt sighed at them, exasperated.  
  
The warriors greeted him when he turned around. Not one was smiling and not one of them had done so since he'd seen them. The inept headmaster wondered what was wrong with them. He'd brought them back from hell. Shouldn't they be celebrating and thanking him? He shook his head. Just goes to show how narrow-minded people can be.  
  
He stood there just watching them. Finally Xira Newt broke the silence. "Well? You have some explanations for us I hope." This woman was a real puzzle to the man. Her bright red hair reminded him of a family at the school and while each of them were sweet as could be, she had a heart cold as ice. Even the way she walked showed her disdain for a person.  
  
"I... well, I have brought you back to life," he stated. He didn't know what else there was to say.  
  
"Well, let's give it up for the master for the obvious," Weland Walsh sneered at him. Yet another puzzle for Pullium.  
  
"Yeah, I don't care how we got here. I want to know why." Marcus, not to be outdone by Weland sounded even nastier, which was saying a lot.  
  
"Well, we have a problem here. Now. And we can't fight it alone... You are each the best warriors of your respective times, and we need you." He thought it sounded nice. Poetic and something out of a novel he'd read when he was younger. One a great leader might give his troops. Max Harrison obviously disagreed because he gave a soft snort.  
  
"The whole 'best of your respective times' bit is open to interruption," Xira muttered glaring at Weland. The Australian returned the look.  
  
"What... What I mean is that now that you're... here, you need to know... well, you need to know what you're up against. We have some... well, there's five of them."  
  
"Of what?" Marcus sneered. "Cats?" Dane gave a soft giggle at this and Max scowled at him.  
  
"Yes well, first, first we have..." Beneyt shuffled the sheaf of parchment he held. "Um..." This wasn't going the way he'd hoped it would. He put the papers down with shaking hands and hoped no one had noticed. They all did. "Well, Amide..." He didn't know what to say to the girl with the white blond hair. "Sholto is a shade... a ghost of sorts that can. well he can..."  
  
With an irate sigh she interrupted him. "A shade can posses human and control any ghostly being causing it to become a solid entity until he's done with them, that's when they go back to being ghosts." She sounded like a textbook but Harry had to smile at the look on Pullium's face.  
  
"Yes well, he has amassed an army-"  
  
Dane, who sat beside him, muttered, "He shouldn't use big words. He might choke." Harry almost did. But Beneyt didn't hear and continued.  
  
"He is going around killing unhappy people to join his army... because, every one knows that happy people don't become ghosts..." Someone cleared his or her throat in annoyance.  
  
And so the meeting continued. He told them about Wayland the Muggle killer who tortured his victims to within an inch of their life and then healed them so they'd be loyal to him. They were the unlucky ones. The lucky ones got to die.  
  
They were told about Radames, who ruled the legions of vampires that had turned evil. As he told them about this, the sight of the Hogwart's vampire warning him against the raising of the dead haunted his memory.  
  
He told them of Kamron who raped witches before turning them over to his friend Radames who turned them. They became the worst of the worst; vampires that boiled with a hatred for any man, living or dead. And finally, Siobhan who brought with him spells and enchantments from what had once been called the Middle East. He ruled each of the Dark Wizards. He had complete control. If he wanted something badly enough he invariably got it. And as of three weeks ago, his sights were set on Hogwarts.  
  
As he told them these things, he watched as each name was followed by a nastier person and the name took on more meaning for them. They fumed and he could see the desire to fight burning within them. He smiled slowly to himself. Maybe the plan hadn't been so bad after all.  
  
Afterwards, each warrior went their own way. Elyzabel, looking very lost but determined, set of for parts unknown and Harry set off towards the entrance. Dane began to wander towards the astronomy tower while Max headed for the cellars. Watching them as they dispersed he wondered, what memories the castle held for them? Things he could only imagine. Hoping Elyzabel would remember something soon on her wanderings in the halls, he turned back to the table to find that one of the warriors still remained.  
  
Amide Langa seemed the most docile of them all. Her blue eyes were soft and misty as if lost in a dream while her pale hair and face made her seem as innocent as a lamb. She stood slowly letting her long black robes fall to the floor before speaking. "I know that in order to kill your Sholto I too will die, but know this," she said raising her finger to point as his face. Her sharp nail only inches from his face. "I do this only so I might rest again. I don't give a damn about you or any one. If I could, I'd kill you now." And with that she swept from the room leaving Beneyt shaking in fear. Maybe it hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped.  
  
***  
  
She knew this place. She knew these walls and this hallway. She knew that if she didn't think about where she was going, her feet would remember the way. They carried her with a steady swiftness that spoke of some one who knew where she was going but she did not.  
  
She was bare foot and her long blue robes brushed the floor making her appear to be a ghost rather than a human. If it hadn't been for the scars criss-crossing her face, Elyzabel would be beautiful.  
  
But in a world where she knew nothing, the face in the mirror puzzled her. Shouldn't she know her own face? Shouldn't it be one of those things that you just know? She felt like she should know this. Like she'd seen it all before but it seemed as if it were a different person entirely.  
  
People told her what wonderful things she had done but she knew none of it. They told her she'd had friends and family and yet she did not remember them so she, unlike the other warriors, did not mourn her past. She didn't care about that or about wars or anything. She just wanted to know who she was. Beyond awaking with a sheet over her face, she knew nothing.  
  
But this, this was familiar. She almost knew it. Almost. It itched at the back of her brain. This room she had just entered. These four walls with their dusty hangings and its uninhabited feel. That dark hulking shape looming at her from the darkest of the murky shadows.  
  
She knew this. Walking slowly over the ancient stones, Elyzabel Petty suddenly knew what was over there! What that dark shape was. Her heart beat a bit faster. She knew something. She'd never been more sure of anything in her entire... well, you get it.  
  
She slowly reached out her hand, half afraid that it would just vanish in a cloud of dust. She held a frayed edge of the cloth that covered it. It had once been bright with the blue and bronze of her house but it was now black with time. She remembered this! She could still faintly see bits of the bright colors poking through, and when she pulled back a part of it that had been folded over, the wing of the raven seemed to dance, ready to fly.  
  
With a confident jerk, she pulled the covering off sending a cloud of dust up to the ceiling and a family of mice running for a new home. It fell apart in her hands leaving only the bright wing as the only evidence that it had ever existed. Her hear sank slightly. Time had taken it toll here as well.  
  
But now that the old fabric was gone, she could clearly see the polished wood of the piano that had lain beneath it for so many years. It looked just as she knew it would, having been protected by the tapestry. And though it had been unused for centuries, she was sure it would play just the way it should.  
  
She ran one hand lovingly across the keys and came away with a small film of dust on her fingers. The wood shone with a bright luster that made her smile. Cause the horribly disfigured face to bunch up in the parody of a child's nightmare.  
  
The sight of those white and black keys below her made her fingers itch to play. She sat down at the bench, which made a scraping sound as she pulled it out. The sound echoed strangely in the cavernous room. For a moment, unexplainable tears threatened to spill down her face. But she pushed them away. And she played...  
  
***  
  
He needed to sort things out. Harry's mind felt heavy with all the information that had suddenly been dropped in there. He'd felt like this his whole life though. What was different now?  
  
But Harry knew what it s. He'd been dead. He'd known, in that time, what true peace was. And now he was here once more. A life with the pain of existence running races in his veins. He wanted to run away from all of this. He wanted to sprint down to the lake, dive in, and never come back up for air. Why not? He was suffocating anyways.  
  
Instead he walked. He wandered down to the lake. The wamping willow was gone. He walked over to see if there was any evidence of the tunnel to Hogsmeade left. But no, there wouldn't be. Pullium had told them that the town was destroyed years ago. There was nothing left to claim the tree had ever stood except for a slight dip in the too-long grass. Harry sighed and wandered closer to where Hagrid's hut had once stood.  
  
In it's place stood a slightly larger building made of stone and looking something like a monument and not a place or residence. Nearing it he saw that I was. "Here's to all those who gave their life in the fight against Voldemort. May you be forever in our hearts." The carved words were faded and almost unreadable. Was there nowhere where the test of time had been passed? No, there couldn't be.  
  
Hearing voices near-by he crept around the back of the memorial. There was a class going on there. Care of Magical Creatures, which appeared to be taught by a young man who looked just out of school himself. Today's lesson was on snakes and the teacher held a very large one in his hands. Harry chuckled. If only they knew...  
  
He went back inside the monument and sat on a bench that rested just inside and out of sight. It was peaceful here. He listened with half an ear as the class went on but never did the thought cross his mind to join them or alert them to his presence. No, he was done with school.  
  
***  
  
Looking around the potions classroom, you couldn't tell what had taken place that morning. No young lips held the names of the warriors and none had them on their mind. All of them that is, except Milana. Her head spun. She knew Him! He'd met him! Harry Potter. But no, that wasn't right... She'd never seen him before in her life. And yet, how then had she been able to draw him so accurately. She'd been drawing that picture long before she'd heard of them coming.  
  
Adela watched the other girl from across the room. "I really hate her," she said to a friend of hers. The other Gryffindor gave her a wary smile before going off to get her pounded rose stem. Adela sighed and rolling her eyes, she made her way over to the other side of the room to get the next thing needed for the healing potion they were brewing that day. Not that they had ever made much else in that class except the occasional pepper-up potion.  
  
Milana was so into her own thoughts as she moved about her work that she didn't even see her arch rival until it was too late. She held her cauldron full of very warm mushy-nothingness one minute and the next, it was all down the front of Adela Huddson. The other girl was screaming in pain and rage.  
  
"You idiot! Watch where you're going! Fucking bitch! That was my best robe!" She lunged at her sending drops of the warm liquid flying about her causing people to shrink back from the circle that had formed around them. "I'm going to kill you, you little whore! Give me one reason not to!" Milana shrank back. Adela's eyes were dark and stormy. "You can never do anything right. I bet you think you're Miss Perfect too! Bet you think that you're special that some dead woman came into you're room last night! Oh yeah, I know all about that." But in truth she did not. Milana didn't know that. "All she wanted was a good fuck! And she probably went back to tell the rest of them what a slut you are! And you know I'm right."  
  
It was at this time that the teacher finally regained his wits. He pulled Adela away hard and she staggered backwards forcing them both to the ground. Not pausing for anything she kept on screaming at the cowering girl. Some one had gone for the headmaster and he came in blustering with false pride and no one listened as he told every one to settle down.  
  
Milana, seeing that the attention was off her for the moment, ran as fast as she could out of the room and down the hall to her dormitory. No one even noticed. "I bet they won't notice when I'm gone either. No one's gonna care except Cielia, who'll only care long enough to have my body removed. No one was going to care. Not really."  
  
***  
  
Things were getting too confusing for the young muggle woman. Mary? Who was Mary? Her heart betrayed her every thought. She loved Divin but now, every time she saw him, it was like a hand was stopping her heart up with ice. She couldn't breath or move. It was too much.  
  
"I can't live like this" she told herself. "I have to leave."  
  
And so she did. Calmly she packed her bags with a few things and not even turning around to see what she was leaving behind. But her head was not so calm. It raged war against her heart, assaulting it at every turn. Her mind was like a maze that she could easily loose herself in.  
  
She didn't look back as she marched down the hill towards the road that would take her to a near-by town for what was there to see? Divin waiting her at the tower as she left?  
  
For indeed he did. "How could I have let her get away?" He asked himself. "How could you fuck it up again?" He seemed to be one of those men who can never seem to get it right but is always trying to make everyone happy. "When is it my turn to be happy?"  
  
***  
  
While every one else ate dinner up in the Great Hall, Harry found himself alone by the lake. Possibly the one thing that had not changed since he'd been gone. The castle-like monument to himself was almost comical in the setting sun, sitting up there next to the real thing but Harry didn't laugh. It wasn't supposed to be like this.  
  
But that was the story of his life wasn't it? Some bloke decides he wants Harry Potter to fight his battles for him so it's Harry to the rescue. Only this time he'd been dead. Gone. Wiped out like he'd never existed. Who was truly cruel enough to do such a thing? But then, Harry had to wonder what he would have done in the same position. Five Dark Wizards was a lot to face.  
  
As the sun sank lower in the sky casting deep purple shadows over everything, he began to think about what might have been. Had he lived... had he stayed dead... had he never been born... had he been happy... He never got a once upon a time and never would have a happily ever after.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a slight jot of red in the fading light. Red, like a Weasley's hair. Red like the blood on the lawn that bright day in late April. Red... And suddenly she materilized before him just as he remembered her from his dreams. Was it? Was this just another dream? No one living had hair like that any more. That family had died off long ago. He was sure of it... None living...  
  
"Ginny..." 


	5. Never Go Home Again

Journey of Legends  
  
By: Cheddar Chapter  
  
A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend: I don't own any of it except the plot and the characters who you all don't know from cannon. Don't sue me, I'm a very poor student with nothing but pocket lint to offer you. Although, if you want that then you can have it. If you want to know when I update, leave your e-mail in a review.  
  
Chapter Five: Never Go Home Again  
  
It was quiet in here. She had played that damned piano for hours until the light outside the room's tiny window had faded and now that she could no longer see the keys, it was silent as the grave. Her fingers still itched for the songs she had not played as if it wee incomplete. Incomplete... just like her.  
  
It was true. She didn't belong here. The others were so sure of themselves and what they had done and who they had been but she had none of it. While they cried for friends and family lost she cried simply to appear like them. It was all a facade. A mask so she could fit in but she didn't belong. She didn't feel the pain that should have been behind the tears. She felt empty like something gutted.  
  
Running a hand over the scars on her face Elyzabel wondered what it felt like to receive such scars. She had been shown a picture of herself earlier. Of herself before she'd gotten them. She'd been pretty, the kind of girl every one loves, but it didn't feel like her. It didn't look like her. That was the only thing she could feel. The fear of not knowing who she was. Of not knowing anything.  
  
But no, that wasn't true. She knew this. The piano.. the songs... she knew them. In here she wasn't the Elyzabel petty they all expected her to be. She was some one else entirely. Someone who played piano and knew the instrument no matter what. Some one who didn't see any one in he mirror but what she needed to. Some one not Elyzabel petty.  
  
Closing her eyes against the pressing darkness she raised her hands back to the keys and played with out her sight. Played what she knew.  
  
***  
  
  
  
Hogsmead had been gone for years now. The nearest town was sixty miles off but Helena had grown up strong and made the journey without complaint. She was tired by the time she reached the little village and stopped off to have a drink at a local bar before continuing on. She needed time to rest... and think.  
  
The bar was crowed and dark which suited her just fine. Filled with muggles, the bar reminded her so much of her home she left so long ago to fight this crusade. But why? Looking around she wondered, not for the first time that day, what had made her go. It wasn't even her war to begin with. Stupid wizards... Stupid Divin... No, stupid Helena.  
  
Sighing at facts and pain she could do nothing about, the small woman took a seat at the bar and ordered a drink. No, it didn't matter what she had. Rice? I've got a little... nothing expensive please. I've still got to get home tonight. Thank you. and with that she settled into thinking about where to go next.  
  
Home had been at that school for so long that leaving it now felt as wrong as when she'd run away to join the resistance in the first place. But only this time her father wasn't behind her yelling at her. He was in front of her with disapproval in his eyes and a heavy hand. Talk about a catch-22. She had no where to go. Hogwarts was where Divin was, her home was about as welcoming as a cracked skull, and wandering about the countryside would get her caught by a muggle internment camp and she'd be dead anywhere. Why couldn't she just stay here forever?  
  
"Those are some dark thoughts yeh're thinking there, girl." An old woman suddenly appeared at her elbow. Helena gave her a startled look. Could this woman read her mind? It wouldn't have surprised her.  
  
"How did you-"  
  
"Yeh're a breath away from telling the whole pub you're gonna shoot yeh self in the 'ead. I'm just the only one 'gonna say anythin'. And I bet I know what it's about too." Helena wanted to protest but the woman continued. "It's a boy. I knew it. Yeh got yeh self messed up in some lad and now 'e ain't what yeh thought 'e was. Aye. I'm right aren't I?" She nodded sagely as if she knew everything. "I knew it."  
  
"Am I really that obvious?" Helena asked. But the woman ignored her.  
  
"I was in love once. 'E turned out to be some great wizard who thought 'e could rule the world. Great wizard me foot! 'E had the wand of a two-year- old!" She dissolved in cackles of glee. The bartender gave the younger woman a sympathetic look but said nothing. "Yeah, and 'e was a mean ol' bastard too. Always talking about 'ow 'e was gonna rule the 'ole 'orld! Ha! 'E's dead as a doornail 'he is! Thank God. You believe in God girl? Ya should. 'E's the only real thing in this 'orld. And don't choo forget it neither." Helena said nothing. The only real thing she'd said. But what was real?  
  
Real. That brought up some interesting questions in her mind. What was real? What was reality? Was anything that had happened in the past month reality? Had she just imagine standing up in front of all those wizards? Was that really her? She'd never had that kind of courage before. What was going on here? Was any of this really real? No, it couldn't be. Love wasn't real. This was just a trick her mind played on her heart.  
  
***  
  
"Ginny..." It was really her. Wasn't it? Or was the early evening dimness making him see things? Like the mirror of Erised showing him what he wanted most: To see someone from his past. Some one who knew him as more than some great over blown warrior. And there she stood. Ginny Weasley in the edge of the woods looking not a second older than he remembered her.  
  
"Oh, Harry!" she exclaimed throwing herself into his arms. He didn't know what to do. Her arms were hard as stone and just as cold. He blinked. What was going on? "Oh, Harry! I missed you so much! Do you have any idea.... Harry?"  
  
"Ginny?" He searched her face for anything that might give him a clue to what was happening. She was so pale!  
  
"Oh! Harry, I'm sorry... I thought... Please don't be angry."  
  
"Why would I be angry, Ginny? I'm just... God, this is all so strange."  
  
"Well, I thought that after... After what happened when you... You died... Harry, It's been a long time."  
  
"So I hear."  
  
"Harry..." She hadn't changed a bit.  
  
"What are you? What kind of demon are you that torments me. You wear her face but she's dead." Ginny was afraid of how cold his voice had suddenly gotten.  
  
"I'm... Harry, I'm a vampire. But none of that matters now. Harry! We're together. I'm not alone any more. We're not alone... any more."  
  
"No," he said. "I guess we aren't." She smiled at him shyly and once more walked over to hug him he held her at bay. "No, let's walk for a while. None of this. It doesn't mean anything." And he took her hand and they began to walk as the sky got darker above them.  
  
***  
  
  
  
"Can you believe her? I mean really!... Rich? Richard Milo, are you listening to me?" Adela stomped her foot and Rich grimaced at the thought of what he knew he had to do.  
  
"Adela, We need to talk."  
  
"We are talking! I mean seriously, that Milana thinks she's God's gift to-"  
  
"-Adela!" He never raised his voice and it made her look up. "We need to talk. Now."  
  
She narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you mean, Rich? What's going on?"  
  
"Adela-"  
  
"-Are you dumping me? You prick! After everything we've been through together!" She gasped. "You're seeing her... No! You're sleeping with her! You're screwing that little bitch behind my back aren't you? You fucker!" She was screaming now and everyone in the corridor had looked up from whatever they were doing.  
  
"Adela listen to me," he pleaded.  
  
"No! you listen to me, Richard Milo. I... I... I hate you!" And with that she burst into tears and ran off down the hallway with people looking after her. Sure they all respected her but it was out of fear and seeing her 'get dumped' by her boyfriend was sure to be the best entertainment they'd get in a while.  
  
But Rich looked lost. She was all he'd known. What was he supposed to do now that he had his wings back but no desire to fly?  
  
***  
  
Guy didn't know what it was about Milana Knight that kept him searching but once more he found himself wandering the corridors searching for the girl who occupied all of his thoughts.  
  
So far he'd checked everywhere he could think of. All of the class rooms and had a friend check the bathrooms for him while he checked the kitchens and Great Hall. But she was no where to be seen which meant she was either outside or in the Slytherin dorms. Both places which Guy found off limits to him as a student after dark.  
  
Sighing he sat down on the nearest stair. It wasn't that he loved her, not in that way at least, but he felt like a big brother towards her. She was always something of a victim and Guy wanted nothing more than to protect her from the Adelas the world had to offer her. But he couldn't. And he knew it. There was nothing to be done.  
  
***  
  
Alexa sat in her room with a book spread out before her. The words were strange to her and yet she could understand every one of them. And reading helped to block the pain. All those people she'd lost. All of her friends and her family.. all gone...  
  
But in this book she learned about each of her fellow warriors. It was a new History of Modern Magic. It was interesting too, which helped keep her awake. She turned the page just as a wave of coughing overtook her body. It shook every part of her and rattled her bones. Her eyes streamed with tears as she felt the familiar taste of coppery blood fill her mouth. And as the pain subsided her tears did not stop. They had brought her back so she could die once more.  
  
***  
  
Xira Newt sat in her room with a thin blanket over her shoulders and a cup of warm pumpkin juice in her hands. She hadn't taken more than two sips of the drink still thinking that she needed something strong. But that would dull her senses and this was a time when she needed all her wits about her. So pumpkin juice it was, however long it had been since she'd tasted the stuff.  
  
In the past few days she'd gone from being dead as could be to being once more alive and kicking and while everyone thought she should be the happiest person in the world, she wasn't. It hurt. She'd been so happy before with family and friends and her lover. Yes, her lover. Juan had been her younger sister's former fling when Xira met him but the two had soon developed their relationship. He didn't mind that they were both nearing fifty. He wanted to marry her. But before he could get up the courage to ask her formally, they were both dead. At least they had died together. The gods had granted them that much sanity. But the sight of that white dress in her closet with the black scarf hung on a nail near-by had brought her up short. He'd loved that dress and the scarf was a gift on their last Christmas together.  
  
Xira could have kicked herself. She'd let her guard down for Juan. She'd slipped out of her spy mind-set like a dress and it had gotten them both killed. But she wouldn't allow that to happen this time. Never again...  
  
A Knock at the door brought her out of her reverie. Crossing to the door she saw Weland someone or other. She hadn't bothered to learn every one's name. "Can I help you?"  
  
"Can I come in?" She raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "Look, I know we don't know each other very well and all this... Well, I just can't stand being alone for very much longer." Xira could sympathize with that.  
  
"Yeah, Sure. Welcome to my humble abode." She made a mock sweeping gesture into the room and they both cracked cautious smiles.  
  
"Am I the only one who's been going crazy since this morning? I mean, come on, since when have muggles been allowed access to the magical world?" Xira shrugged at this. She had always lived when muggles knew of their existence. It had always been a proven fact. She couldn't imagine it any other way.  
  
"No, I don't think you're alone in the feeling kind of strange bit at all." He given her a slight smile but it didn't reach her eyes.  
  
"It seems like this whole thing is just... I don't know... It's like a script written by a bunch of monkeys chained to typewriters or something! There is no rhyme or reason to it! I mean, we were never meant to meet." He slung himself into a near by chair and Xira bit back the urge to tell him to help himself to a seat. She didn't understand the short man before her. What on earth was he rambling on about?  
  
Sitting down she listened as he continued. A spy learns to listen. "I was supposed to die a long time ago. I did die a long time ago! But You didn't. You weren't even born yet and some how, here we both are in a world we were never meant to see and no one has a clue what's going on! I mean good god! Did you hear what he was telling us about down there? It's crazy! All those fucking idiots thinking they can take over the world so they bring us back from the dead and frankly, I don't know about everyone else but I was happy... I was so fucking happy..." As Weland drew his rant to a close his voice choked up. Xira saw tears glisten in the man's eyes. "They don't even celebrate Halloween any more. Do you know that? Today id Halloween. My kids would have been planing their costumes or talking about the great feast if they were here at Hogwarts. But these kids don't have the energy to think about a party with this war going on. I looked at them this morning and i thought, 'my God, not one of them knows what today is!'"  
  
A moment of tense silence descended upon them before Xira spoke. "But would you go back? I mean, If you went back to the moment you died and changed it so that you never died because you knew about all of this, would you?"  
  
Weland thought about it. "No, they were all long dead by that point. But I would have made it so that they couldn't have brought me back." And Xira knew she agreed with the man before her. The man who had put on such a great show of being fierce and intimidating. He was crying. Xira almost was.  
  
Another knock at the door drew them both out of their morbid thoughts. Before Xira could get up to open it, Dane Irish stepped into the room. "I heard people talking. I couldn't find any one to talk to. Do you think I could stay here a while?" He looked like a little boy in a man's body. Xira ran an apprising eye over him from his short spiky blue hair and his soulful brown eyes and down his lean frame covered by a robe so very different from the ones she had known. He must have had them from before... Before.  
  
Weland looked at her as if to ask permission. How had she become the leader of men once more? She sighed. "Sure. It's not like any of us have anything better to do." He gave a thin smile of thanks before sitting in a chair near-by. Xira ignored that it was the chair she'd been sitting in and took the last chair in the room.  
  
Weland spoke first. "Is it true? What Max said?" Dane's eyes narrowed as if to asses what was behind the question.  
  
"Yes. I'm gay all right? If you have a problem with it I'll leave. I don't have to stand for it." There was a definite challenge in his voice.  
  
"No, It's fine." And so the evening wore on with questions about lives that were lived long ago but begun again. Answer about love and heartache and the peace of being dead.  
  
A little while later, they heard the soft sound of a piano coming from someplace near-by. Dane got to his feet as quietly as he could and almost jumped when he found Xira standing just inches from him. Together they eased towards the door and opened it when the sound became a little louder.  
  
With Weland following them, they crept out into the hallway and followed the sound up a flight of stairs and down a narrow and dark corridor. They came to a door that was solid wood but cracked open a bit. Pushing it open they saw one of their fellow warriors at a piano that took up half the room. Elyzabel Petty took no notice of them as they enter but she knew they were there. Like flies in the background.  
  
Silently the other three crept into the room and stood around the walls. Dane sat on the dusty ground and leaned his head back against the wall behind him and closed his eyes. And the song played on.  
  
***  
  
They spent the rest of the early evening time wandering the halls and laughing about all the things that they had gotten up to in their days at the school. Down in the dungeons they laughed at the memory of Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret. In the old DADA room they fondly recalled Lockheart's Cornish pixies and Harry told her about his meeting with Lupin and Snape walking in on it. She smiled wide enough to show her fangs and it stirred a memory of another girl with fangs... but they didn't talk about the very end and he wouldn't think of the pain either.  
  
The halls were deserted as they made their way back towards Harry's room. Ginny giggled behind him. Something she had not done in centuries for what had she to laugh at? Only lovers and children laugh the way she had not for so long. But she seemed determined to make up for all of that now. They bother were.  
  
Coming down the hall they heard a piano song coming from someplace above them. Ginny heard it first and took off in search of the source. Soon they heard low voices carrying along with the song. But the piano was indifferent to the voices.  
  
Coming to the end of the hall, Ginny pushed open a door and Harry saw a few of the other warriors sitting or standing against the wall. "Well at least she remembers how to play." he heard himself whisper.  
  
"I should have known you'd be here" came another voice. Xira Newt. Her voice held no emotion.  
  
Ginny almost smiled at the woman. "Hello, Xira." There was a softness in her eyes like pity.  
  
"You two know each other?" Dane asked from his place on the floor.  
  
Xira looked away. "We did." She seemed ashamed.  
  
Weland walked over. "Well, we're luck Marcus isn't here. This pretty girl would be dead in a heart beat. No pun intended." He sneered at the other man's name but smiled at Ginny as if she were a young girl who should be flattered and fawned over.  
  
"We were just talking," said Dane. "About Halloween." Harry and Ginny shared a smile.  
  
"They don't celebrate it any more." Ginny looked ashamed to have to tell them that.  
  
"Yeah, we figured that one out," Weland laughed. "It's today," he said.  
  
"Well, then, Happy Halloween."  
  
There was a tense silence broken by Dane. "It seems wrong. Like we're breaking some code of time or something." They didn't have to ask what he meant. The whole Halloween thing had been a farce. Trying to hide the pain... the past.  
  
"I know what you mean. I think we all do." And so the night wore on. And Elyzabel played.  
  
***  
  
A few hours later Ginny noticed as Harry's head began to droop just slightly. Taking him silently by the hand she stood and he followed her out the door. They left in their wake, Dane, Weland, and Xira sleeping softly in various poses about the room but Elyzabel's notes never once wavered.  
  
Once in the hallway again she led him by the hand down towards the kitchens. Harry's eyes misted over at the familiar place. He wondered if the sight of the Gryffindor Common room might affect him similarly. All those memories that seemed like only yesterday and yet here he was, a thousand years later... as if nothing had happened.  
  
"Tell me..." Ginny looked at him startled. It must be hard to startle a vampire. "Tell me what happened after I... After I..." And that was a s far as he got before she took his hand and sat him down at a table with a plate of food before him. He hardly noticed it but picked at as she sighed and began to speak.  
  
"You know about Dumbledore and Hermione and..." Her voice was choked. "And Ron. You know about that." He nodded. "Well, Snape, he died. When you, well when you cast that spell, everyone with the dark mark died and even though Snape wasn't really one of them he died too. Um... Malfoy... err... Draco. He grew a lot. He changed. He got married to some witch and they had a few kids. They were all Ravenclaws. I think that seeing so many people die really changed his mind. Remember how he was going to become a Death Eater?  
  
"Who else? Oh, yes. Sirius was never cleared. I'm sorry, Harry. It just never happened. He thought of you when he was dying. I went to see him. He was an old man though. Don't let it fool you. He was never quiet the same but he had moments when he was happy, Harry. Don't you ever forget that. He loved you. He lived for you." Tears fell down his face and from her's as well.  
  
"And Lupin?"  
  
"He was killed. When you... After, well, the ministry began to kill any werewolves they could find saying that they had helped Voldemort. Lupin was such a front runner in the war that he was one of the first taken out. Oh, gods, Harry! I'm so sorry I let all that happen. I could have... I... I'm so sorry." And she wept.  
  
Harry closed his eyes and leaned forewords. His lips brushed hers' in an impulsive moment that seemed to take over and blocking out the pain of true loss he kissed her and felt her return the favor. And all the while one thing kept running through his mind. He'd been with her all night until now it was nearly Dawn and not once had he said her name.  
  
***  
  
Too much pain. It hurt too much. Milana's face was red and contorted with the pain that only a teenage girl can feel. Tears soaked her robes and the sheets she had buried her head in to weep. It was too much.  
  
With a grim determination she rose from her bed and walked over to her desk. Pulling out the picture of Harry Potter she sighed. 'I'll bet you never felt like this huh?' Setting the picture back down she pulled a knife from the draw and pulled the knife across both wrists and waited for the pain to end.  
  
  
  
It's finally done. I really don't like this chapter too much but give me some hints as to how to make it bettert. I tried to write it faster so every one would stop bugging me about it. Help me out here guys and gals. Drop me a review! Please! 


	6. First Blood

Title: Journey of Legends  
  
Chapter Six: First Blood  
  
Summery: Harry Potter was a Legend and Legends have a way of echoing down through the years. People love and admire their legends. But what happens when that admiration is coupled with desperation? It sets Legends like Harry Potter off on a Journey they should never have taken.  
  
Rating:R  
  
Spoilers: Follows the books up to fourth book. I may change it to fit t he fifth boook once it comes out. We shall see.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own it. JKR does. She is a godess ect. I'll love her more when I get my hands on OotP  
  
***  
  
It had been a long month since that Slytherin had killed herself in the tower at Halloween. Monica found it hard to believe what had happened. After they'd come back, things had progressed in an insanely slow moving blur. They were made aware of so may things! There had been long cold nights alone in her room where all she wanted to do was curl up and sleep and never ever wake up. But that didn't seem very likely anymore.  
  
Things had not been good among the warriors. Dane and Max had some how gotten the job of teaching the students. There was a rumor going round the rest of them that Max had suggested it to the impressionable Beneyt because he wanted to have just that much more chance to make fun of the other man. Sad really. Sad that it had even come to this. But she had to admit, at least the students were paying attention. She had come to a few classes and been very impressed. When she was in school, they never listened to their teachers!  
  
But so many things had changed. To think, a vampire and a seventeen year old! Granted, Harry Potter had known her since they were ten and eleven respectively but Monica still had a hard time wrapping her mind around it. The other woman scared her in a way the Monica had once thought she was above. Her eyes held so much pain and fear that Monica would find herself wondering what had happened to make her look at the world like that. Ginny and Harry would disappear for long periods of time. No one knew where they went or what they discussed but Monica thought it was lucky that at least one of them had some one to turn to. God knew none of the rest of them did. Marcus never failed to make a crude remark about vampires and/or sex but most people ignored them now. It's not like any one didn't know about them.  
  
But every one was starting to pull their own weight. The pain of being forced back into being had not disappeared. It was only easier to ignore now. They kept busy. That helped. Helping to teach classes or patrolling for strange activity at night. A few spent afternoons in the library though whether they researched the fate of family and friends long dead or the raising darkness, no one could say.  
  
That was another thing. Monica could feel the evil magics in the air here. It was the same air she had breathed all seven years that she had gone to Hogwarts but it was older some how. Staler and the wind carried screams for mercy from voices long silenced by pain.. The students here seemed to not notice it any more but the warriors certainly did. Xira said it was like having some one pulling each of your hairs from your head as you slept. "I know what that's like to. They did it to my lover." And that's all that she would say about it.  
  
Xira was one person Monica couldn't decide if she wanted to get to know her better or run and hide whenever she was ear. Weland and Dane seemed to think she was like a flower they needed to protect. She resented that. Monica had heard that she's been a supporter of dark forces in her time. Then she turned spy and they killed her boyfriend in front of her. It too them two weeks and then they started in on her. There was something in her eyes that made a person's blood run cold.  
  
But they were a far cry from what had been expected of them. They were not perfect or all knowing. They had not ended the war within moments of waking. They had been so heart-breakingly human that it seemed almost as if they had failed in bringing them back. But all of that was about to be tested.  
  
***  
  
The students of the seventh year Gryffindor/Hufflepuff Care of Magical creatures class was slowly becoming used to seeing Harry watching their class. He sat inside the monument with his name on it and waited. They had the last class of the day and now that the days were becoming longer and longer, it was dark by the time that it ended. The girls of the class watched the enigma out of the corner of their eyes. But he almost didn't see them. His eyes were locked straight ahead on the poem etched firmly into the wall.  
  
It had been done by some one with crude penmanship and was obviously not part of the original design. Ginny told him that Hagrid had etched it there. Before he disappeared. "I've never seen any one like that. Harry, you were like his son. And then... you were gone. Everything fell apart after that," she'd said. Harry shrugged.  
  
"Yeah, but Voldemort was gone too." She had nothing to say to that.  
  
So he waited here for her every night. He never looked for her because she came from a different place each night. Instead he kept his eyes fixed on Hagrid's poem. It was a muggle poem Harry had read once in grammar school.  
  
In Flanders field the poppies blow  
  
If he closed his eyes he could almost see the huge man bent over the stone carving the words into the solid stone.  
  
Between the crosses, row and row, That mark our place; and in the sky  
  
His hands were bloody from scraping against the stone and the scent of the wasted blood filled the air. Drops of it fell to the floor staining it crimson. But it was a stain long ago worn away by the feet of a thousand years.  
  
The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below.  
  
The feet of mourners at first. Then it was students who came to catch a quiet moment before a test or big game. Back before Quidditch was abolished and Broomball was introduced. Safer they called it. Ha! But Harry couldn't bring himself to care that much. Quidditch was a part of his dead past. It was only fitting that the game should be dead as well. And then came the groups who held parties here away from the eyes of students and teachers alike. It was the idealistic young couples looking for a place to loose everything their parents had worked to protect. Innocence, intelligence. Everything Harry felt he had always been denied in life but was expected to have here and now. Now...  
  
We are the dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,  
  
He could see still the sun out in the sky above him. It mocked him. A defiant symbol of what he could not have while it still shown. They could have spent their days together but Ginny put that idea down. "Even I need time to sleep. Why sleep at night when in day I can do nothing?" so he waited...  
  
Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields.  
  
Closing his eyes the sight of Hagrid still bent over the stone disappeared. He could see the students walking through here on the day of its unveiling. It was five years after his death. The older students were reverent. They remember him from school. A few still had pictures that Colin had taken of him. But the younger students held no such memories. They walked through without stopping to brush a hand along his name in a finale greeting or wipe a tear of sorrow. Harry understood the felling It was not their fight. It never had been. He'd have acted the same.  
  
Opening his eyes he focused on the last stanza of the poem. It was sloppier then the rest. As if Hagrid's massive body had been racked with massive sobs. Harry wasn't sure how to feel about the mourning. No one should have to know how they were mourned. But that was the whole point wasn't it?  
  
Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields.  
  
It was a beautiful poem and Harry could see that it, more than any other part of the stone cenotaph, was worn hard by time and tears. Beneath it, a newer, surer hand had written:  
  
And there was no sleep for the mighty warrior ever after.  
  
Harry suspected it must have been Ginny who had written it but neither of them ever mentioned it. The subject of the monument in general was pretty much taboo. It was a constant reminder that the whole thing wasn't ever ment to be. That he was still supposed to be dead and the fact that they were together was never meant to happen. Not like this. Not Ever.  
  
It was still bright out but the first tinges of pink had begun to mist the low hung clouds when it happened. Like a great rush of air it seemed as if every bird in the forbidden forest took flight at once. A great crashing sound pounded in his ears and he could see the students in the class all turn their heads as one to see what was happening. A few looked to him for an explanation but he was just as baffled.  
  
Looking to the trees the could see dim shapes moving towards them. Some looked like men and others were clearly not. A man streaked out of the forest near by and past Harry in a blur. Something in the way he moved told Harry he wasn't human. Werewolf. The word stuck itself to his brain like a bur and would not let go. Harry accepted it. He had no choice. The entire clan of them were now streaming out of the forest. With them came the unicorns and so many other magical creatures that Harry found himself slightly baffled at them all. What could have made them al so frightened that they would chose to abandon their safe haven of the impenetrable wood? Was the battle he'd been brought here to fight finally upon him?  
  
Getting up he joined the students in their dash for the castle. No one questioned it. He saw a girl burst in the front doors and in moments the rest of the warriors were assembled on the lawn along with him. They watched as pale shapes, vampires, moved long the edge of the woods unable to flee for the sunlight still above them. No, wait. They weren't frightened. Or at least, they didn't seem to be. They were not trying to flee.  
  
"They're waiting for us," said some one behind him. One of the girls.  
  
"It must be Radames. Isn't he the one controlling the vampires?" Harry felt himself nodding. It was too soon. HE didn't know whether to welcome the impending fight for fear it.  
  
"Where's Beneyt?" asked a weak voice to his left.  
  
"Where else? Hiding." It was Marcus. Harsh as always.  
  
"As we should be. We aren't ready for this."  
  
"Shut up, Max!" Dane shouted. "Fuck you! We can do this!"  
  
Weland gave a nod. "We have nothing to fear but fear itself," he quoted.  
  
"Unless they have dementors," said Harry muttered.  
  
"No. He's right. We have nothing left to lose." The all nodded at Xira's words. The light had gone from the sky now. The vampires had left the sanctity of the forest and were advancing on them. Marcus grinned.  
  
"I was born for this." And then they attacked. The vampires, not the warriors. They surged upon them and it was all harry could do to keep curses firing from his wand. At some point, Ginny joined him along with many of the teachers and a few of the older students who trembled at more than anything. Rumor flew that there were people on the way but on one put much stock in it.  
  
"Stop!" Cried a booming voice from behind the lines of Vampires. They did and the defenders of light took the opportunity to fire curses. But then a wary silence fell over them. "I said to stop," it siad. The vampires parted ranks and a tall cloaked figure stepped forth. "So, this is what Beneyt sends to take me down with? Children and old men." Harry could see yellow eyes glinting from beneath the hood and repressed as shudder. "Kill them," said Ramames dismissively.  
  
And the battle began anew. Harry fired every curse he knew from leg- locker curses to fire spells. HE drew the line only at the unforgivalbles not even sure they would work on the army of undead minions before him. They were so weak in some areas and so very strong in others. Harry tried to remember everything he'd learned in his first year of Defense Against the Dark Arts Class. It wasn't much. Decapitate them, burn them, stake them, or hit them with sunlight.  
  
It hit Harry at the same time as a few of the others came to the same realization. "Solarus!" cried out the voices. A light brighter than any natural day flooded the area and the flames of burning and smoldering vampires only added to it. But the light was not far reaching enough Xira screamed in frustration. She began to swear at them. She hurled curses faster than any of them. Harry watched in a numb fascination as she and the others fought as though they had nothing left to live for. They were reckless and Harry knew they'd be dead within hours if this kept up. And so would he if he kept standing there doing nothing. He fired one curse after another in the general direction of the vampires.  
  
Few of the blood sucking fiends fell but those that did were certainly not dead. They shuddered and convulsed on the grass. Ramames watched from the back of his heard. His eyes were cold and hard and his face impassive. Even Voldemort, at the height of his powers, had been unable to match that cold facade. He had been temperamental and lost his temper easily. Not so this being. The new breed of evil was everything he should have been.  
  
With a single shouted order that none of the warriors heard, every vampire on the feild froze. Xira took the pause of action to act and together, she and Marcus shouted something and a wall of fire burst from their wands. It shut the warriors off from the vampires quite effectively. "What the hell did you do that for!?" Weland shouted.  
  
"We couldn't have gone on much longer could we?" Marcus retorted. Weland made as if to punch the other man but Max grabbed his hand.  
  
"Don't touch me," he sneered.  
  
Then suddenly the wall flickered and went out and the vampires surged forwards once more. Harry froze. The bastards all came at him at once. They surrounded the warriors and Harry knew they were far out numbered.  
  
The vampire on Harry's left attacked first. It lunged at Harry's throat and he ducked. Wincing as a sharp stone buried itself deep in the flesh of his knee when he hit the ground, he felt something slam into him. It was the vampire as it tripped over his now prone body. Then, in the most ungraceful way possible, the vampire landed sprawled spread eagle across Harry taking two more vampires near-by down with it. Harry's eyes widened in surprise as the broken face right next to him came sharply into focus.  
  
The face was ugly to say the very least. It was grotesque in the extreme. Its fangs had broken through its bottom lip in the fall and one of them was broken in several places leaving shards of white scattered on the ground. It's eyes were red with blood which poured from a cut someplace in the hair and the creature looked almost pitiful to Harry.  
  
The two other vampires on top of this sad creature before him both scrambled to their feet. The leader of the two tried to kick Harry in the ribs but the young man rolled out of his way. In a moment he was on his feet with his wand at the ready. The leader charged at him again with its fangs barred and his claw-like hands groping at Harry's thin body in his eagerness to rip him limb from limb. Harry braced himself. He planted his feet and clutched his wand so hard his knuckles turned white. He clenched his jaw so hard his face was drawn into a sever frown. But nothing happened. The beast suddenly burst into a cloud of dust and Harry looked up in surprise to see Max standing there with a wooden stake.  
  
Harry's eyes grew even wider as he saw the other vampire coming up quickly behind the other warrior. Max didn't know it was there. The creature bit hard into Max's neck. Harry watched Max's knees buckle as he struggled to fight the beast off. Then Harry sent himself into action. He burst forwards and grabbed the shirt of the vampire who dropped Max to the ground. Its eyes glinted and Harry felt his blood chill .Letting go of the spoiled cloth, he backed up only to hit another vampire. Suddenly he had two of them coming at him.  
  
With a whispered prayer he drove one end of his wand into the chest of the one in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Max get back on his feet and he nodded at harry. Together they cried out the same spell as the group had before and the weaker light spread out killing any vampires within ten feet. Xira looked up at them from near-by and together the three of them moved to the edge of the cleared circle and cried out the spell again. This time the light spread further.  
  
But as they were preparing to move further into the thick of things to cast the spell again, Ramamdes shouted for silence. "You are the best that they could come up with?" He sneered at the warriors before him. "Children and queers the lot of you." He looked around. Dane looked murderous as did the others. "I have seen what I need to now." And with a wave of his hands the vampires began to leave for the forest. The warriors began to chase them down with spells still flying but Ramamdes turned and put up another wall of fair to block their path. "Thank you for the idea Ms. Newt," his voice cam through the flames. And they were gone. The first battle was over.  
  
And when at last they had gone compleatly the flames died leaving a brunt line on the grass. The warriors then began the task of killing those left behind. Marcus and Weland made it a competition to see who could stake the most calling numbers out across the silent feild. The sound of their voices rang empty of any emotion in the air which was stale with the scent of blood and ash.  
  
"Nineteen."  
  
"Twenty-three."  
  
"Twenty-one."  
  
"Twenty-nine."  
  
"Twenty-five."  
  
"Thirty-four."  
  
But no one else said anything. The silence pressed on Harry's lungs. Ginny, working beside him, smiled but was careful not to let her fangs show for which he was grateful. It was important to forget for the moment that he was shagging a vampire no different from those he was killing as he worked.  
  
When every last one of the vampires (save for Ginny) was reduced to a pile of dust and the counting of the two men had died to silence, the warriors began to pick up fallen things and head back to the castle but one remained. Harry stopped to ask if she was all right but the words didn't have the chance to leave his mouth. Elyzabel turned to him with fear plain as day on her face. Fear and confusion.  
  
"It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was a lie. A mistake. All of it. Don't you get it?" She was panicked now. "Oh God, Harry. It was horrible. All those people dead. Each and every one of them..." She shook her head and her long hair fell forward to hide her scars. She reached up and took her hair in her hand. "I was just an outsider, Harry. I always was. I didn't want this. Don't you get it?"  
  
"I know," he said slowly. "I get it. I'm sure that every one-"  
  
"-No! You don't know. You can't know! I wasn't supposed to be here! It wasn't supposed to happen like this. I was suppose to die and let every one else take all the glory! I.... was supposed to be ignored... I... I remember now... "  
  
A/n: Ok so now that I've finished I'll tell you that it's been done for a while now. But it sucked. Ok! So, next chapter: we find out about Milana. What? She's already dead? *Laughs* But please leave a review anyways. Already dead... *Shakes head* Sorry. Just wait... *Laughs some more* 


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